


The Value of Hard Work

by Lazarel



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Black Hat is not a nice eldritch entity, Degradation, F/M, Noncon/Dubcon elements, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Service Kink, Slow Burn, Suggestive Themes, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-21 22:57:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 85,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazarel/pseuds/Lazarel
Summary: You are desperate for a job, but not desperate enough to work for a villain organization. Too bad you don't have much say on the matter.





	1. Leave Your Ego at the Door

"Is this the right address?"  
  
You dumbly ask yourself even as proof is right in front you in the form of the home residence number plate and street sign to your left. Yup, it sure is the right location, your phone's GPS confirms. The bus that brought you to Hatsville Island dropped you off a few blocks back, making you walk quite the distance. You missed your car terribly in these situations, nonetheless here you are in front of the Black Hat Organization's alleged Mansion. You'd only seen pictures of it online and on newspaper but seeing it in person was something else entirely.  
   
The bright afternoon contrasts with the somber and imposing look of the structure before you. You truly had not expected this the place of interview when you saw the job listening online. Located in Hatsville? Sure, there are still a good amount of decent employers in the area. The little top black hats all over the ad? Well, it was a common gimmick used by Hatsville Island residents to attract the intrepid individual's business or employment--so you naturally did not think possible that _the_ infamous Black Hat Organization  was the one looking for someone to add to their Staff. Not many had even seen them as most of their dealings were concentrated on the black market demographic. The ad had also been very minimal in the information provided for the position, but stating that all prospective applicants would be interviewed in person.  
  
And you are in a dire financial situation but refused to reach out to your mother for help since you did not want to worry her. This was, after all, your first time living away and you wanted to show her and your dad you could take care of yourself. So you steel your resolve, smooth out your pencil skirt-button up blouse combo, and turn your heels away from the place getting the hell out of there, because no paycheck was worth getting yourself involved with villains - specially Black Hat Organization - you heard stories about them.

Turning away from the Manor, you hear a light giggle coming from behind and a creak of the gates opening.  
  
"Are you here to do the interview?" A girly singsong voice asks.

You turn and see a teenage girl leaning against one of the dark gates to the Mansion. She has a manic grin plastered across her face, with a dark outfit mismatched hair of bright green and red colors, torn stripped tights and different colored eyes you would think looked amazing if not for the wild look in them. Yup, definitely a villain.  
  
"O-oh! Hi! No, no--I think I just got the wrong address that's all!" Quickly you hide the printout of the listening behind you, along with your attache case.  
  
She quirks an eyebrow. "Really? Then what's this behind you~?!"

With incredible ease she advances with a movement you can only describe as 'slithering' around, snatching the printout from your hands alongside your bag.

"Hey!" is all you manage to say.  
  
Smoothing out the previously clutched paper before briefly looking at it, she then shows it to you.  
  
"You're in the right address and _you ARE here_ to interview!" She declares and rejoices at her little discovery.  
  
"Lis-listen here, I don't think I will be a good fit here and d-decided to change my mind. So give my... stuff back, please?" Voice cracks and stutters under the sudden anxiety overwhelming your body--she notices this, pauses and then grins even wider than before with a mischievous glint in her eyes.  
  
"Oh, but how can you know for sure if you don't give it a shot? Besides, Mr. Black Hat would be happy to see more applicants!"  
  
Oh no.  
  
Before you even have time to retort she grabs your upper arm and starts dragging you with surprising strength toward the entrance of the mansion, throwing her head back with a cackle as if she'd just found a new chew toy. While you pass the gates you almost scream for help but then thought better of it when you see the studded mace she carried alongside your belongings.  
  
Besides, after crossing the gates to the Black Hat Mansion you really doubted anyone would even come to save you now.


	2. Success is No Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Interview Process

"Oh Honey~! Where are you~!" The girl sings while kicking open the massive heavy looking doors to the mansion. "Look!" She says while lifting your wrist showing you off as if you were a trophy to a non-existent audience. She was only met by silence, your pounding heart providing the only background noise even as the doors to the street were left wide open, it seems even outside noise was scared to travel inside.

"See? Your boss isn't home, so maybe you can let me go now...?" You start fervently pulling your arm to no avail. However, you cease movement as you catch a glimpse of something massive approaching from one of the hallways, you hear an inquisitive growl coming from the thing. As it emerges from the hallway and onto the light of the opened door of the wide entrance hall you recognize it as a bear. A massive bear with baby blue fur, walking like a person--but a bear nonetheless.

"You gotta be kidding me!" Now, you actually cower behind the girl holding you captive.

"5.0.5, where's Black Hat? I found something for him!"

The creature emits a series of growls and grunts of which you understand none, but at least it doesn't seem interested in mauling you both at this time. So you take this opportunity to scout your surroundings with the help of the outside light providing more visibility; what you see is quite amazing.

There is priceless and heavy looking furniture of dark wood which gives the interior an air of class and status with intricate carvings, you could tell they are one a of kind pieces just by looking at them. The complementary ornaments set on the display tables and bureaus emanated an air of foreboding and danger, but were no less captivating to behold--you suspect many had met their demise trying to claim these pieces as theirs. Rococo and baroque style paintings with tall dark ominous figures as the subject with similar styled framing decorated the walls. High windows which served to emphasize the high ceilings of the building had crimson and ashy drapery of fine heavy textiles and tassels hung upon their frames, while the glass--no doubt costume made--is red tinted as well. And as if that did not give you hint enough that you were standing upon a villain's lair, the preferred gray-colored wallpaper of choice had meticulous ebony designs surrounding a black top hat in the center as its pattern. The same pattern which served as background decoration for the online ad you foolishly decided to answer.

"Demencia, what's all this racket you're making?!" A deep gravelly voice, of a tone you've never heard of, vibrated throughout the house.

It came from nowhere and everywhere at once.

Even the girl and the bear paused their exchange upon hearing the sound of the otherworldly voice. The bear for his part, slightly cowered while the girl steps forward dragging you along.

"There you are~!" She gleefully calls out.

There, at the top of the grand double staircase you failed to notice earlier, suddenly stood an exceptionally tall obsidian figure imposing an air of malice and authority. The red glass windows atop the stairs filtered the outside light encasing his dark frame with crimson light. He possessed an elegant wardrobe, consisting of a long fitted inky coat, with its lapels fixed up effortlessly attributing additional sharp edges to his silhouette. Snug trousers of the same tasteful material and hue hugged his slender long legs. While wine-tinted dress shirt made pair with light grey vest and a simple black tie serving as accent pieces to his ensemble. A pair of high quality leather gloves clutches a solid ebony cane coated in a glossy finish. A refined gentleman's black top hat rests upon his head. From where you are standing you can also see the serrated fangs of a radioactive green color lining his mouth in a sneer of irritation, his ivory eye and the shining monocle are the only other thing standing out from his sooty skin complexion. Now, more than ever you truly fear you are in the presence of a being that escapes mortal comprehension.

You start jerking at your arm harder than ever as you try to flee.

"Black Hat, sir! While doing my rounds outside the mansion I found _this_ waiting at our gates!" At ' _this'_ , she finally releases you and pushes you forward making you stumble a little in your high heels. She then beams while brandishing your job listening as evidence of your intent alongside your attache case. "A new applicant!"

Your blood runs cold as Mr. Black Hat regards you with an air of disdain before his features change to those of appraisal. He steps forward and you step back a few paces.

"S-sir, good afternoon. I was trying to explain to your um... henchma--err...girl here that my interest in applying had--"

"Doubled! When she saw our glorious manor and realized she just had to give it a go and try her luck like all the others!" She throws an arm around you with ease, specifically the one holding the spike studded mace.

Still, you try again, "That's not--."

"Marvelous! I thought there wouldn't be anymore after the last pathetic batch of interested prospects." An unnaturally wide display of keen teeth forms in the shape of a smirk dripping with sinister delight. The words died in your throat after hearing this.

"5.0.5! Show the girl to my study. We will commence this little interview at once." He retreats back into one of the upper floors.

The double doors behind you leading to the outside world shut close with a loud bang, taking most of the natural light with them.

You hear Demencia, as you now know that to be her name, giggle as if she'd just pulled a childish prank on you and had not just signed your death warrant. "Good Luck with the interview~, no need to thank me or anything!" She pushes your belongings to your chest and you stumble back a little into the bear as she slithers away with a low hissing noise trailing after her.

Wait, the bear.

Pulling back, fully expecting to now actually be mauled to death by this creature only to find the thing curiously peering at you. You pause and wonder if this is indeed "5.0.5", the one that's supposed to lead you to your demise. You hug the case to your chest as if it could actually protect you from this animal, yet that doesn't seem necessary as the bear makes beckoning motions instead.

"So you are 5.0.5, right?" He, she? nods and you notice a little yellow flower bounce with the movement at the top of their head. For some reason this made you feel at ease, thinking perhaps this animal had more humanity in it than the last two mansion residents you had met so far.

You follow the bear focusing on his blue fur to try to distract yourself from the situation you are currently in. Perhaps Black Hat would end your life quickly after determining you were truly unfit to work for a villain. Or maybe he would maim you as punishment for wasting his time. The worst would be that he would torture you slowly and deliberately to pass the time. Or-or if he was in a good enough mood--perhaps he would only kick you out, he was a busy business man after all, or so you've heard. Whatever the case may be you need a plan to get out of this alive, the thought of your poor parents crying inconsolably after given the news that your body had been found tore at your heart. You had to at least try for your parents, I mean, you're already in too deep anyway. 505 stops and you bump into his soft fur interrupting your train of thought, he turns around and motions for you to enter into a room as he opens one of the double doors. So you've arrived.

Black Hat is already sitting on the high backed chair at his mahogany desk waiting for you, an impassive air dominates the room as your enter. You tense and try your best at a confident walk towards his desk, your mind reeling at this situation while you hope your face betrays nothing of your inner struggle.

"Thank you for the opportunity, sir." Your voice trembles only a little.

"Have a seat and show me your resume." He motions behind you and where there was no chair before, now a high backed black wing chair appears. You do as you're told, your hands shaking a little as you scramble to find your resume, it includes a nice thought out but generic cover letter ready for almost any possible employer. You feel his gaze examine your every move and have no doubt he's already picked up on your highly strung nerves. Nonetheless, you hand over the document across the desk.

A moment passes while he looks over your documents.

"This is quite impressive compared to the trash I've seen so far come through the door. No villain learning institutes I see, but I suppose this will do." He comments as he leans back onto his stately chair making it creak under the shift of his weight.You feel a chill run up your spine and regret fixing up your hair today.

"Most of the idiots we've seen so far ended up dropping out of school due to incorrigible behavioral issues. Other lower class evil-doers may want mindless dolts, but **_I_** don't have use for unskilled labor as a long term position, if you know what I mean..." He has a refined accent, one you've never heard before which distracts you from the fact that he's now talking about your education level and that at least you managed to get an Associates of Science Degree before deciding to take a break from college. There's also your work experience at an office as the Front Desk personal which later promoted you into an Executive Assistant position, but before that your dad was able to get you in as a part-timer at the manufacturer he stills works at today, making you at least mildly familiar with industrial technologies.

The position that had been posted online only requested the individual to have some experience as an "Assistant." The self-proclaimed prestigious private for-profit organization stated that the future employee was expected to possess great organizational and prioritization skills, as well as strong verbal and written communication skills. In addition, they also needed to be able to lift, bend and climb as needed for some light house-keeping duties. They would also be fulfilling several other duties as requested and should be able to adapt to any given situation. Simple, standard and innocent enough and had you known who was behind the ad you'd immediately closed the tab to the internet browser then.

"Consider yourself lucky," He intones with the now a familiar sharp smirk on his face, "you've lasted here more than five minutes." He says while smoothly setting aside your resume containing all your precious personal information in it.

"Now let's begin the verbal portion of..." He doesn't get to finish his sentence as a loud explosion is heard and felt throughout the house. You nearly have a heart attack as you shoot up from your chair and look at the door. A growl then tears your attention away from it as you see Black Hat pinching at the space between his eyes, the universal language of barely contained familiar frustration.

"Stay here. I have a very important project coming up soon. You'll just do the written portion while I go and check to see what the good Doctor is up to."He stands up and you immediately sit down.

Without another word he strides past you towards the doors and when you ask "But where's the written...material?" You feel a cold chill come from the desk and you see a packet of paper with multiple choice questions on them, an exquisitely adorned jet black pen with a small gold plated skull at the end is now resting next to the papers. There's 100 questions total you find as you flip through it, and it seems that this is actually your run of the mill aptitude test save for the Gothic font in which it's printed on. Huh.

The questions range from "What would you do if you saw you co-worker stealing?" to "Are you able to work under high levels of stress?" Then, an idea forms in your mind. What would happen if you were to "flunk" this part of the interview process? Surely your situation could not be any worse than what it is now if you picked all the answers you knew would guarantee you _wouldn't_ get the position from other employers. This seems to be your last ditch chance to leave the manor or to find out for yourself what happened to the previous candidates before you. With nothing to lose you take the cold hefty pen and get to work, a little surprised it actually takes a bit of effort not to answer the questions correctly. Some time passes and just as you finished filling in the answer of the last question finding yourself bathed in sweat and anxiety, Black Hat stalks into the room mumbling something under his breath before stopping to stand next to you expectantly. You gulp down the knot forming inside your throat as you can't believe you're gonna go through with this stupidly formulated plan.

"Sir, I finished!" You quickly hand him your purposely botched questionnaire, your hands are unabashedly trembling now, but he doesn't comment as he swiftly takes the document. Then you nervously start fidgeting with your gold colored choker while he looks over every single page. Your gaze lowers to the ground and you still find it in you to awe at the impeccable polishing job done to your executioner's shoes. Then you lament that this sight will be the last thing you see, but find a small comfort in knowing that at least you'll go wearing the nicest outfit you can afford.

"Hmm..." he hums as he flips to the last page and the corners of your eyes become wet with the oncoming onslaught of tears. Maybe if you beg he'll let you live.

  
"Good! Good, very good. Didn't look like you'd have it in you what with your squeaky clean looks--a good tactic to fool anyone."

Wait, what? What is going on?

"You've marked all the right answers I would expect viable candidates to choose in a situational judgement test." He walks around to his desk and takes a seat on his chair while you are still trying to process what he just said. He leans towards you and clasps his hands together.

"I've decided that the interview process is over." Your heart begins to thump faster, "No more irritating interviews shall be conducted after today because you are what has come the closest to what I'm looking for." The sinking feeling in your stomach is back but at ten fold.

"Wh-what...I g-got the... job?" You swallow even though your throat is dry and he narrows his eyes as only now your nervous behavior seems to bother him. .

"Don't make me repeat myself again, you should count yourself lucky and honored at the thought of becoming part of my Organization."

This has backfired horribly in your face. A disaster, a series of unfortunate events that don't seem to stop because what else could be worse than suffering a horrible death than now being employed by a villain organization. Maybe if you try to explain, even if you're already in too deep.

"Sir, I appreciate the offer, bu--" You begin.

"Excellent!" He cuts you off. "As if you could say no now. Let's be done with this and sign the contract so that you may begin your servitude to me." The devious smile returns to his face, the monocle shines even in the dim crimson light of the study. He snaps his fingers and a single sheet of thick amber paper materializes on the surface of the desk, he sweeps his gloved hand over the blank page and suddenly there's words printed in black ink.

He deftly slides the paper over to you, the fingertips of his sizable hand still on it, while the other hand is offering you the ornate pen you used earlier for the questionnaire. You think you see his serrated green fangs grow longer as he smiles at you, the fold of his cheek pushes on his eye making it look even sharper than before, the sign of a genuine smile you idly recall someone saying.

Your hand starts slowly reaching for the pen still trembling but then you stop, and it really is like they say--all the moments conforming the parts that make up your entire life up to this point flash before your eyes. Your preschool days when you participated in the school play and your mom was so proud of you because she claimed you were the most adorable sheep out of the whole class. Then your days as a preteen in the summer heat out biking with your friends. The time you fought with your best friend and made up after days of not speaking to one another. The time your dad was hospitalized after a work accident, how much your mom cried then and the relief after finding out he was going to be okay. Your first boyfriend in high school and your date to the town's fair. Going onto college, meeting yet more people and falling out with some of them. Your ex-coworkers and the nice boss you had the fortune to have as well as the office parties you helped organize. Wrecking your car in a moment of irresponsibility a month prior, and the nice breakfast you had this very same morning. All of that seems so distant now, so far away and in completely separate worlds as your brain struggles to comprehend how any of that could co-exist within the reality of your current situation.

"I-I..."

His smile fades and becomes a sneer of annoyance as his patience comes to an end. "What's wrong, why are you stalling? Is this too much for you?" His eye becomes a slit of scrutiny. "Or are you gonna tell me you wasted all my time to decline my offer for ensla--emplOYMENT." At the end of his last word, his voice begins to drop to a much more thicker tone with echoes trailing after it. "Wasting my TIME and approaching me wiTH fAlse PRETENSE IS THE LAST THING ANY IMBECILE HAS EVER DONE BEFORE MEETING THEIR MAKER AT MY HANDS!!!!"

His eyes turned an intense burning red, while his clothes almost ripped at the seams trying to contain his form as he looked ready to tear you to pieces right were you sat. You lean as far as you can go against the high backed chair and feel tears pricking at the comer of your eyes again, a cold chill running throughout your body. Dying here, however, is the last thing you want to do at the moment as your self-preservation instincts finally kick in and helpfully supply you what you hope to be an acceptable reply.

"NO! Black Hat, sir! **_Please_** , don't misunderstand! I just couldn't find the right words to thank you enough for giving me a chance!! I-I will not disappoint you and will do my best!"

By the time you finished your sentence your chest was raising and falling quickly as you hyperventilated while grasping at the chair's armrests with both hands. At some point you had tightly closed your eyes and a couple of tears ran down your cheeks and make-up truly believing that you would not see the light of day ever again. But suddenly everything goes quiet.

You chance a glance after a moment to find him fixing his tie while staring at you with a satisfied look his face as if nothing happened.

"Sir?" You say in an almost whisper as you try to clean your tears with the back of your hand, careful not to smear your make-up anymore than what it already has. You are still shaking though.

"Very well, then. I'm glad no such preposterous thought crossed your mind, and even if it did, now you know the consequences." He tucks his tie in his vest as he watches you nod in agreement.

"Where were we?" He hovers the pen again over the contract, now you don't even try to read it as you reach for the pen a second time. When you are about to grasp the pen, the skull at the end of the pen quickly turns toward your direction seemingly becoming alive. Before you can pull your hand away the tiny cranium suddenly twists, opening its needle lined mouth and sharply bites your index finger drawing blood. Gasping for air you are about to pull away before quickly realizing that if you do, you'll make the whole ordeal worse. Black Hat still holds the pen in place and merely watches on with mild amusement, "Smart girl." He chuckles.

You whimper a little as the pain continues on. After a few more seconds the pen lets go of your finger and he motions you to hold it. You do it with apprehension after sucking at the little bite mark on your finger.

"Now, sign." The sinister tone and smile back in place.

You do as you're told and sign above the marked line. The crimson color of your blood contrasting with the black ink surrounding it.

A few droplets of blood run from where you are holding the pen and stain the document, you begin to fret.

"Don't worry, I like it. It gives it a nice touch, wouldn't you agree?" Is his only comment.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like, had half of the chapter already finished but lost the file and had a fit for like 10 minutes straight. I really hope this is close to what I wrote originally.


	3. Step by Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Move-in date is today! 
> 
> Read the small print and get with the program, otherwise Black Hat will read it to you and when that happens you know it's too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda tired right now so I apologize of there's any mistakes in advance, I tried my best to catch them. Also this one is kinda short.

Cold air travels throughout your body as soon as the blood drinking pen is lifted off the page. You are still sitting in Black Hat's study, time appearing stagnant for a moment, you can actually see the air when you exhale the breath you didn't know you were holding. Then your sense of reality suddenly twists, your surroundings distorting and collapsing onto themselves as a feeling of heavy drowsiness washes over you. Black Hat's dark shape and wide grin are the only thing stable in your field of vision. Strangely enough your body doesn't respond despite witnessing the bizarre event, as you continue to sit frozen in place.  
  
You blink, and everything is normal again.  
  
"Congratulations, new Ms. Assistant, you have officially become one of my Organization's latest talent acquisitions." Black Hat sits back once again on his chair regarding you with an indiscernible stare.  
  
You rapidly blink a few more times setting the pen down while feeling a little light-headed, so you touch your left temple with the other hand. There's also feeling deep in your gut telling you that whatever you had done just now would have irrevocable ramifications to the rest of your existence.  
  
"Th-thank you, Sir Black Hat. But I don't feel too well right now... is this normal?" He snickers at this--a mocking sound filling the space between you.  
  
"Normal to the vermin I considered worthy enough to work directly under me." Oh, so not everyone got the red carpet treatment to delusion nightmareland after signing a contract with him. He picks up the receiver from the phone next to him, "5.0.5, come get the new Assistant to show her her new living quarters. Her whining is grating at my nerves now." Without waiting for a reply, he puts the receiver back.  
  
Wait, living quarters?! Your dizziness fades away fast.  
  
"Sir, you mean this is a live-in position?! I-I-I didn't know! What am I going to tell my friend? We have a contract lease and I can't just bail on her like that on the apartment!" Now you really wish you had taken the time to read the contract's clauses. "A-and my things, I still have all my things there and how am I going to tell my--"  
  
"SILENCE!" He slams his hands on the desk's surface and you cease your nervous tirade.  
  
"The terms of the contract explicitly state indeed that your living arrangements would be confined exclusively to the Black Hat Organization Mansion' effective immediately. Additionally, any tides to abhorrent common society would be severed to keep you away from distractions such as 'friends' and 'family.' Eugh... can't believe you actually made me say those words."  
  
Leaning down he pulls out a small whiskey glass with its accompanying bottle, and pours himself a glass of viscous dark liquid before downing it all in one shot during which you process what was said to you. You think that you really have no one else to blame but yourself at this point, as you resign yourself to your new life under Black Hat's thumb.  
  
There's soft pounding at the door, then in walks 5.0.5 with an amicable expression on his face. Still, you turn to your new 'Employer' to plead one more time. "Lord Black Hat, please, at least let me retrieve my belongings--it will be quick, also I need to explain myself to my roommate regarding our lease."  
  
He wears an impassive look on his face now, leaning his head on his hand while he listens to your groveling.  
  
"Very well then, if it will make things go faster. I've already spent far too much time with you than what was needed." You cheer internally, "Hatbots will go with you to make sure there's no extra stops on your way. I want you back before sunset." So he's not leaving you any openings to bail _on him_ now. Hold on, did he say Hatbots? Are those what you think they are?  
  
"Thank you, sir."  is all you can muster for now.  
  
\------  
  
It really was what you thought it would be; literal robots wearing little top black hats at the top of their heads. You'd heard of them but never actually saw one in person. Perhaps in a different context you would have thought they looked funny, charming even, but now as you sit crammed in the co-pilot seat of the grey van with the BH Org logo at every side you find them nothing short of terrifying. Their upside-down triangle shaped built and strong arms that could squish a human's head with no effort, making for an intimidating picture to behold. No less impressive was their programmed intelligence, which gave them enough self-awareness to even know how to drive a vehicle. The low metallic echo of their voice as they saluted their originator with their one glowing slanted eye would have given anyone chills as well.  
  
So instead, you look out the window to the streets and find that you already miss "abhorrent common society" as you enter the outer limits of your town. You also think about calling your parents to let them know of your situation, but then think It's best they're none the wiser for now--they are sure to have a heart attack. Deciding that it would be best to occupy your thoughts on other things you try to concentrate on the possible benefits of your new employment, but in the end you end up dreading the arrival at your place the entire car ride anyway.  
  
Upon arriving, everything transpired pretty much the same way you expected it would. There was no way that the van with its robotic occupants would go unnoticed by the entire neighborhood.

 

It is glaringly obvious when the car pulls up to the curb outside your apartment complex that this will be no regular moving crew. People stop and stare when you get out of the van, a crowd starts forming at considerable distance from where the robot parked. You recognize the lady you sometimes do laundry with on the weekends and you wave to only see her turn away and leave. Well, so much for that. You can hear those bold enough to stay say things like "My, she seemed like such a nice girl." and "Maybe she's been forcefully taken away, should we call someone?" then "Are you kidding? Can't you see those things? I don't want any trouble, man."

You decided you've heard enough and head up the upstairs unit to start packing.

Black Hat sent you with three Hatbots, two of which are buff robust models and one small one with a mono wheel for feet for good measure. A surplus of white boxes brandishing his trademark black seal were also provided to carry your belongings. They wait outside as instructed until you finish packing. You start with your clothes first then your shoes. Make-up and hygiene products are next. It was all surprisingly fast, maybe because you threw everything in boxes without any care because if you slowed down then you feel like you would have an emotional break down as so many things were happening too fast. The bots go inside to start carrying your things into the van when you are done.

You are also helping when you spot your friend's blue little economy car pull up the driveway. Good, this will save you a really awkward phone call later. She doesn't turn off the car's engine before jumping out and calling your name, even as she eyes the grey van with caution.

"Hey! What's going on, what's all this? And are those...?"

"I. Am. S _o- **SO.**_ Terribly. Sorry, This is NOT how I expected things to turn out at all, I am sorry. I just went this morning to see if I could get an interview with private organization from the ad I showed you yesterday, I got more than what I bargained for when I saw who was behind the ad. I tried backing out, but ended up getting roped into an interview anyway and before I knew it I was already signing a contract with _Him_ and well, let's just say I really wasn't given the luxury to read over the contract." You finish explaining your surrender while she holds your hands.

"Oh My Gosh, but are you okay?! Do you want me to call your family or the Hero Al--?"

"NO." You cut her off before she continues and the robots overhear. "Don't tell my parents--I really don't want them involved in this mess--I'll contact them later to talk to them." Then you lower your voice, "I don't think there's much I can do right now even if the Alliance is called, it will make things much worse." She nods in understanding.

"I was thinking on calling you later to explain everything, but I am glad you're here--at least I can say goodbye in person. We'll keep in contact though since I still plan on paying you my share until you can find someone else. You've been very good to me in my time of unemployment." You chuckle nervously.

"What are you talking about? That should be the least of your worries! I'll figure out something, just concentrate on staying safe and... alive." Your friend suddenly lets go of your hands backing away, her eyes directed somewhere behind you. One of the mechanical grunts is approaching holding a black leather suitcase, is he going to shoot your friend now? Panic seizes your body once again.

It stops in front of both of you and opens the suitcase, it says in the same thick resonant automatized voice you heard earlier; "From His Excellency, Lord Black Hat."

Inside the black suitcase on a red suede base, lays a check, a business check by the looks of it with an exorbitant amount thrice the total of your yearly rent for the entire apartment--both of you are stunned. And on the opposite side of the suitcase that the robot is holding up, is a sign in black bold Art Deco lettering simply reading:

"BACK BEFORE SUNSET. - B.H."

The exact amount of intimidation is delivered in a single experienced gesture to get his message across. You know what to do and waste no time in taking the check to hand it over to your still frightened friend and former roommate. The Hatbot retreats inside the van to wait as the other muscular one finishes with the last box.

"I have to go now. At least rent will not be among the unfinished businesses I leave behind this Earth, heh he." You joke forcing a smile, though you are truly relieved at being able to generously repay your friend through Black Hat's grace. For now, you don't want to think how you'll have to repay _him_ for this favor.

"Don't say that! Call me to at least check in with me." She says and gives you a tight hug which you also return in the chilly afternoon breeze.

"All Forms of Affection Towards Any of Lord Black Hat's Properties Are Strictly Prohibited." A high pitched mechanical voice says and your friend gasps as she now faces the barrel of what seems to be a laser-gun pointed at her face, this time it is ironically courtesy of the little mono-wheeled bot.

"Nno-no, no, _no!!_ We're done here, we're leaving, see?" You get in between them, palms up showing the little menace your hands. Content with this, it wheels back inside the van and shuts the doors, you breath a sigh of relief.

Waving one last goodbye to your friend who waves back from a distance (you don't blame her), you head back to the passenger's side to start your ride back to Hatsville Island, your new home.

_____

The room you are assigned is remarkable to say the least. The size alone is twice your former apartment, albeit small as it was, this is the biggest space you've had to yourself in your entire life. You are taken a bit aback, as you really didn't know what to expect your living quarters to be like.

Like the rest of the mansion, no expense was spared on the decoration and furniture of its bedrooms. However, the bed calls out to you first, as you walk up to it and see that it's queen sized, far too big only for one person. Still, it's comforters look thick, made from linen of a dark crimson tone. Several fluffy pillows with accent cushions line the head of the bed, when you pick one up you realize the pillows are stuffed with feathers. The bed frame cut from heavy oak has high posts at every corner, a teester mounted on the wall at the top of the exquisitely carved headboard hangs thick golden embroidered curtains giving the bed an image of stateliness.

The sun is barely setting as you managed to make it back before the allotted time, you think you deserve a rest before putting things away from the boxes still laying around the bedroom floor. You did not bump into anyone as you followed the bots to your living quarters in the dark hallways of the mansion. So you decide to take a ten minute break and lay on the bed still wearing your interview getup.

And it feels just as heavenly as it looks.

You close your eyes for a little bit trying not to think back on the events that transpired throughout the day and let darkness overtake you, drifting off to a merciful slumber.


	4. Work Attire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orientation Day

Light filters through the open curtains hitting your face as you stir in the chilly morning air. You curl up into a little ball trying to keep warm, then you realize you're still wearing you high heels from the day before. Must've been one heck of a party last night--no, wait. You shoot up awake as now everything rushes back and you find yourself sitting on the four poster bed of your new bedroom. Crap, so that was not a nightmare after all. Looking for your phone to see the time, you find it underneath a pillow and it displays 7:05 AM, Saturday morning. You don't recall being given any further instructions for today morning the night before, so you decide to take the time to get familiar with the new setting, not like you could go back to sleep anyhow.  
  
You sit up straighter to look around the room in the morning brightness, it's still as impressive as the night before. Taking off your shoes, you find that your feet feel extremely sore but you are still able to walk in the soft plush carpet below with its intricate designs and carefully chosen colors. The first thing you notice is off to the right of the center of your bed, it is a sitting area with a small table and two plush chairs illuminated through a wide bay window. The legs of the table curve in an elegant manner while the surface shines in polished pale wood. Running a hand through the chairs you find that they are upholstered in lavish fabric and pity the fact that you will not be able to have visitors over to enjoy this with. Getting close to the window you pull the sheer material aside to look at the garden below, if you can call it that. The high pointed crooked black fence marks the end of Black Hat's mansion and the beginning of the rest of the world. The soil inside the property looks dead whether by design or simply because no one could be bothered with the upkeep of the garden. It makes a bleak sight if you are completely honest, so you turn away from the window and focus on the bedroom again.  
  
Feeling a bit surprised to see a vanity dresser to one side of the room's walls, you approach it and remember having one as a child. It was made of pink plastic and as you outgrew it, you never saw its use after learning that the bathroom served just as well. After all, you were until very recently running on a tight budget. Seeing now an adult sized one you couldn't help but feel a bit excited, although you never thought Black Hat would pay much mind to his subordinate's appearance if Demencia's unruly looks were anything to go by... Still, it seems that you, however, are expected to maintain an acceptable level of presentation during your daily duties. It's a lofty curvaceous thing with golden detail contrasting with the murky cherry wood colors, it has a large mirror at it's center framed by golden mythological creatures, some of which you recognize. The vanity also comes with its own matching stool where you are expected to sit every morning getting ready.  
  
On the left side corner, next to your bed you spot a small desk complete with a matching chair, a complimentary Black Hat Organization stationary, a quill pen and an India ink container. You snorted. Well, at least if you ever feel like writing your memoir detailing your life as Black Hat's Assistant, then you certainly have plenty of material to work with right here--dramatic writing utensils and everything. Yet it is a nice place to set your laptop on.  
  
Beside the right side nightstand are double doors, upon opening them you discover that this empty shallow space is actually a wall closet. It's more than big enough to fit your clothing you think,  then you become a bit confused as to why there is also a towering armoire of expansive size on the adjacent wall, it comes with two additional tall drawer chests at each side.  
  
The armoire is empty when you open it and you wonder what else could you possibly fit in there.  
  
There was another set of double doors in the opposite corner where you stood. Crossing your fingers you hoped it was a private bathroom; you are not disappointed. Pristine white marble flooring shines with the light coming from another wide window above a white bathtub. This type of bathtub you'd only seen in interior design magazines and in history museums as display. It seems to be made of porcelain with lizard? or perhaps dragon legs? of golden finish. The toilet has it's own separate space, same as the shower which is detached from the tub at a corner and even has a built-in sitting bench. A linen cabinet sits next to the bathroom vanity sink, the sink has the same finish as the floor and tub. There are more decorations on the bathroom wall, more traditional framed paintings of landscapes and such--except instead of depicting peaceful pleasant sceneries, natural disasters are in their place. Lovely.  
  
Still, you think, maybe there's hope for you yet given the circumstances and perhaps work here won't be as miserable as you expect...  
  
After you finish unpacking your things, you decide to make use of your new bathroom and take a quick shower--your stomach starts rumbling a little then and you remember that you had not eaten anything since breakfast the day before, not like you could after the stress you'd been under. You put on the one bathrobe you own and now find yourself in a new predicament as to what to wear on your first day of work here. You are staring inside the newly occupied wall closet deciding what would be appropriate when you hear a soft pounding at the door, you have an idea of who it could be.  
  
5.0.5's big dark eyes greet you with a soft growl and a wave of his paw. "Brhh-brh!"  
  
"Oh, good morning." You offer a tense smile to the creature--wait, is he wearing a maid uniform? You open the door a bit wider now a bit humored by this, he looks adorable. Stepping inside, he shows you the reason for his visit.  
  
On his paws is a set of folded clothes alongside a pair of black heels; It seems you don't have to break your head any longer trying to figure what to wear now as he hands them to you.  
  
He motions for you to move aside and when you do, he pulls in two a long racks of carbon copies of the outfit you are currently holding in your hands. Wheeled table trolleys carry identical sets of heels and accessories. He then points from the racks and trolleys to the massive armoire and drawer chests making it crystal clear what he means. So that's what's supposed to go in there.  
  
Looking down at the clothes you just hope it's not a maid uniform.  
  
_____  
  
You go through your morning routine trying to trick yourself into thinking that this is just like any other job you've had before and should make the best of it instead.   With an exhale you turn back to the clothes you placed on the bed bench after you finish combing and styling your hair in front of the vanity. You go to wash your hands from the products you used getting ready since you don't want to mess up the uniform and also to stall for time. At least It wasn't a maid uniform, thankfully.  
  
Well, might as well get this over with, you can't walk around in your underwear all day.  
  
When you return, you grab one of the thigh high stockings first and begin putting it on trying to avoid thinking of how this getup was chosen and focus instead on the outfit itself. It wasn't hard really, the material was extremely soft of a dark maroon shade and you are surprised to see that this particular hosiery is a pair of simple vintage seamed stockings.  You've never worn something like these although you recall seeing the vertical seam going to the back of your legs on retro-like pictures before... right? You still pull out your phone to double check anyway. Your phone loaded very slowly. Huh, that's strange--but you were right, the seam goes in the back. Ha! Take that Mr. Black Hat. When you put on the second stocking you realize that there's no way these things will stay in place, your have shapely thighs and they slip when you walk. Dang it, what now. Oh wait, you remember you actually own a couple of black garter-belts; Problem Solved. They were an impulse buy and never really got to wear them much outside a couple of occasions but you are so glad you kept them anyway. The garter still fits well around your waist while it gently but firmly keeps the material of the stockings in place, perfect.  
  
Then you move on to the dress, you struggle a bit to put it on but you manage. It is an empire waist line tight fitting micro mini dress consisting of an attached blouse of black fitted fabric with a dipping sweetheart neckline, your cleavage is framed by a high white collar with elongated corners that rest over your chest. The shoulders puffs are done in such a way that a single sharp peak is formed at the very top of each shoulder, they come down to a pronounced width of fabric which is pulled together by a long 3 button grey short sleeve cuff. The portion of the dress that starts below your breasts is of the same dark ashy color as the cuffs and has two pronounced seams at the front that run over the expanse of your upper abdomen and lead to two slits at each respective thigh. While a lone seam line at the center of your back has a slit longer than the two at the front and reveals more of your rose tinted undergarments. The back of the dress has a corset-like detail, a ribbon made of hefty material which is woven starting at the top of the empire waistline part of the dress and ends at the beginning of your lower back. You find that you really don't need that much to pull as the dress is tight enough already, still you tie the ribbon nonetheless and are delighted to see that the tough material forms a perky shape at the back of your waste. Liking the flattering, if a bit eccentric, way everything snugly adheres to your figure you then start looking for the designated footwear.  
  
They are ankle strapped high pumps of a raven dark leather. The straps are wide at the forefront of your foot but decrease in width at each lateral side, coming together in yet another spiked bow for decoration at the back of your feet where your Achilles tendon is located. The black color of the pump is accentuated by bright red soles visible from behind due to the height of the heel. You hope you don't have to walk around all day in them, but find that they are comfortable despite their look, still, you take note of where you put away your flats earlier.  
  
Then you grab the gloves from the bench and when you put them, you notice they are half scoop gloves as part of your lower palm is left exposed while the other half and fingers are covered in a fine raven material.  
  
Next you take the pristine white pillbox hat of an exaggeratedly small size, probably to give more room to the attached upright protruding long thin onyx colored... ears? The lengthy protrusions end in a sharp pointy peaks and inside its folds you feel soft pink fabric. They look similar to those of an Egyptian god you can't recall the name of at the moment and you are sure the strange combination of hat and ears will look ridiculous on you, but you put them on anyway and decide to keep your hair down. You are a bit amazed to see that the odd headwear actually brings everything together and does not look half as strange as you anticipated; every garment compliments each other and it seems to have been carefully created in a way that would accentuate your body while still looking very much like a villain's garments with its sharp angles and dark subdued palettes of expensive looking textiles.  
  
Finally you are ready to button up the dress' collar, framing your cleavage in a window of the exposed skin of your breasts and chest. Looking at the reflection on the vanity's mirror you notice that the sizable bulky button is made of some sort of pitch-black metal, forged into the emblem of a solid top black hat. It mocks you and reminds you exactly to what organization you now belong to. You continue to stare at the mirror and find it hard to understand how swiftly everything that made you you was stripped away and replaced by Black Hat's influence and wealth.  
  
5.0.5 patiently waited for you outside and made a happy noise when he saw you stepping out of the room.  
  
"Well, how does it look?" You say and do a little twirl. He responds by clapping his paws together. You giggle at his response forgetting where you are for a moment until you hear Black Hat's voice coming from somewhere unnervingly near.  
  
"Assitant, you are to report to my study at once. 5.0.5 was sent to fetch you."  
  
Looking around frantically you search from where the voice is coming from to then realize it came from the ears sitting atop your head, good to know you are not going mad already, then realize they are meant to be some type of communicator between Black Hat and you. Makes sense, how else is he going to bark orders at you from his study. 5.0.5 hearing the order as well moves his paw prompting you to follow.  
  
_______________________  
  
5.0.5 shuts the door right after you walk in leaving you to face with Black Hat once again. This time he has his back turned away from you as he sits on his chair, but you can tell he's reading Hatsville's morning newspaper. There's a tea cup sitting on his desk while he reads. Making an effort to clear the knot forming in your throat you swallow before greeting him.  
  
"Good Morning, Sir."  
  
He doesn't reply nor does he look up from the newspaper. You already miss 5.0.5's company.  
  
"I trust you found your new accommodations satisfactory?" He turns a page still not paying you any mind.  
  
"Yes, sir! Thank you, the room is... quite something--I don't think I've ever had such luxurious lodgings before." You stop yourself from babbling amidst your nervousness.  
  
"Of course you have not." He scoffs. "Up until recently your pathetic subsistence was to serve other insipid lowly companies barely paying you enough to get by, but now..." Finally he turns making his blood-red chair creak in doing so. "You serve a higher purpose working for me and you are expected to perform." He smiles then and you stand up straighter, stiffer.  
  
"Thank you for the opportunity and for the advance to pay off my lease." You half whisper.  
  
"Don't thank me, you'll pay it off soon enough." Just as you thought.  
  
"Hm, i also see you've been making use of the furnishings I've provided." He says while giving you a quick once-over. "It's also good to see that Flug can manage to design uniforms too, the Anubis ears are an oddly fitting touch." You exhale a sigh of relief as he finally said something about the designated getup and find solace in knowing that he wasn't the one to come up with the design. But then, who was this 'Flug" individual? You really, really hope it was not another Demencia-like henchman.  
  
He gets up from his chair carrying his gentleman's cane as he begins approaching. He stops in front of you, this is your first time seeing him up close, you have to lift your head to meet his eyes since he towers over you. Exceptionally tall indeed. He holds the cane from the handle with both hands then firmly brings it down to the polished floor, the image of a guillotine's sharp blade being brought down over someone's neck comes to mind with the sound the cane makes upon hitting the ground.  
  
"Passed this point, your entire existence will be exclusively devoted to me and the Organization. What you are or were before matters little to me as now your every waking hour will be spent in making my malevolent business prosper. Your duties will not be limited to office work, you will also do whatever else I ask of you. It is entirely up to you how long I decide to keep you around, just know that what I consider useless usually comes out the door inside a black body bag if there are any remains left, that is." His voice is low as he looms over you like some sort of dark deity dictating his sentence, crowding you against the door with his presence.  
  
"Yes, sir, I understand." You nod slowly, feeling that any sudden movements would trigger your demise.  
  
"Excellent. Then, follow me." Reaching behind you he opens the door without warning making you stumble backwards into the corridor, you almost hit the floor but manage to catch yourself as he watches with amusement.  
  
He gives you a tour of the mansion while he explains your duties pertaining to each shown room. it is so much bigger than what it seems from the outside. Several rooms and corridors do not seem physically possible to exist as their proportions are not consistent with the hat shaped layout of the house, although you try not to think not too deeply about that.  
  
There are several display rooms and he takes sometime to explain the trophies of fallen heroes who were brave or foolish enough (depending on your point of you) to take him on in the past. He tasks you with the daily upkeep of his trophies as 505's 'clumsy paws' are not fitted to care for the more delicate objects. There is of course, a Drawing Room--rarely used, he explains as he does not accept many visitors, nonetheless, you are to assist in maintaining it presentable. He also has a grand dining room, complete with a finely cut chandelier hanging from its high ceiling, priceless no doubt. Next is the conservatory with a poisonous looking plants which you are to water according to their schedule, he points to board at the entrance. Among the scientific Latin names, you spot one that reads "Lil' Jack"... that is weird, but you have no time to dwell on it as you are quickly taken to the next part of the mansion. You are shown to the armory room, a large two floor room containing countless weapons ranging from great swords to colossal Gatling guns, glowing mysterious vials and more modern looking weapons, 'only the best' he boasts. As if that wasn't freighting enough, he proceeds to show you his Game Room which as it turns out was actually a Torture Room filled with medieval torture devices, including the lightly put 'must-have item' of an Iron Maiden. Wonderful. Although not as often used anymore, you are still tasked to come and dust from time to time, to move around and oil some of the devices to make sure they don't become rusty since one never knew when they would be needed again.  
  
There are several more rooms that you are shown, some looked more lived in than others, some more yet you are prohibited from entering. You have half a mind to inquire about the crashed commercial airplane stuck on the mansion's roof when you suddenly stop as you pass by a window where you spot several tombstones resting on a grey green patch of land that resembles a small cemetery. He notices your pause and walks over.  
  
"Sometimes I like to keep those who've served me well near well after they have moved on from this plane of existence." You shiver at his comment and he chuckles watching your reaction. "Who knows? Maybe one day, you'll have the honor of joining them too." You say nothing even as you feel a cold chill run up your spine.  
  
Moving on, he then leads you to another immense area, this time it's a library with several floor to ceiling bookshelves with ladders standing by to reach the books placed higher up. Not only is the library filled with ancient looking books, but it also comes with an archive room containing many files cabinets and shelves stacked with cassettes, projectors, and boxes of faded last century pictures, film and documents. It is here where he wants you to spend some of your time, to refile and catalogue these items.  
  
"I want Dr. Flug to concentrate on projects in order to maximize productivity and revenue, rather than waste his time here. Still we need to keep record my past exploits as well as our subsidiaries' for possible future promotional material." As if Black Hat Organization wasn't infamous enough, but finally seeing a silver lining you think that at least this you can surely handle.  
  
"You will assist Flug on the lab as well, I set him on deadline for a new product I plan to launch soon in the black market. Otherwise he'd be the one showing you around." On the lab, there was a lab here too? And does this mean you'll finally get to meet this famous Doctor? He turns and walks back from where you came from without another word, already expecting you to follow.

Much like with the rest of this bizarre experience that has become your life, you really don't know what to expect when it came to your other co-worker...? Supervisor? Whatever the position, for all that you know this Doctor could turn out to be a really creepy old man with sadistic tendencies. A heartless creep who would make your life a living hell more than what it already was probably by trying to use you for one of his experiments, because surely a man who served Black Hat was a man whose moral compass was severely lacking at best. You imagine someone who is ancient looking with formal wear complete with an ill-fitting bow tie, wild eyes, and a horrible high pitched laugh. His face would definitely be filled with warts and his scalp would be visible due to his falling white hair. You know, the whole nutty scientist shtick package.  
  
Your stomach started to hurt but now you are unsure if it's due to anxiety or hunger.  
  
So immerse in your thoughts you are that you fail to notice when the luxurious dim hallways gave way to a sterile facade of off-white walls, linoleum flooring and reinforced metal where many ventilators and metal pipes lined and passed through its surfaces. Black Hat pushes a set of double doors before announcing his presence, you felt your knees shake with mounting apprehension.  
  
"The new Assistant is with me. Doctor, get out here- NOW! " You flinch as his call echoes in the vastness of the large room.  
  
A door to an adjacent chamber immediately opens while white smoke spills out. From the smoke, a lanky form emerges and you have the sudden urge to hide behind your new boss but force yourself to stay put.  
  
"So sorry, boss! Demencia stopped by earlier messing everything up like always and then I got caught up testing out the new chemical agent we'll be using for..." The young male voice trails off as he notices you standing there.  
  
You are equally dumbfounded as he is nothing like the image you had conjured up in mind. You can see even through the white lab coat he wears, that his frame is slender, scrawny even. His stature is slightly above average, although a few inches below Black Hat. He wears denim jeans and a pair of red canvas sneakers, a red ring blue t-shirt with a white plane broken in half over a solid yellow caricatured explosion, it gives him an air of informality and youthfulness--the complete opposite of your new overlord. What's most peculiar, however, is the brown paper bag covering his entire head and face. Only a set of black tinted goggles set over the bag somehow manage to reveal his eyes, which at the moment regard you with a mixture of surprise and bewilderment.  
  
"Well, aren't you going to introduce yourself, Doctor? You were, after all, the one insisting we get an Assistant-and here she is." Black Hat sounds exasperated this time as he tilts his cane in your direction. Oh, so he's the true source of your current misery.  
  
"I-oh, yes, Yessir! I-ermh..." He takes a moment to clear his throat, as if he'd suddenly forgotten how to form coherent speech. "I, um. My name is Flug, Doctor Flug... Slys." He stands up straighter now, sticking his yellow gloved hand out to you in a mechanical fashion. "Happy to have you on the team." He says in an equal manner although his voice cracks a bit. You hope it's just the nervousness and that he doesn't normally speak like this.  
  
"Um, thank you, Doctor. Glad to have made it through the interview process." You hesitate to take his hand since he'd mentioned before he'd been handling chemical substances, realizing this he quickly takes off his yellow glove and re-extends his hand again, this time you shake it forcing your best professional smile.  
  
"Enough, we're done with the introductions." Black Hat interjects and the Doctor quickly lets go of your hand as if scalded. "Now, Dr. Flug here, will assign you other duties more specific to his field and position within the Organization. Any other trivial inquiries you may entertain can be addressed to him, so don't bother me if you want to keep your tongue attached. You'll know when I am need of you." He says flicking one of your canine ears before turning to Dr. Flug.  
  
"Put her to good use, Doctor. Now that you have an extra pair of hands I expect higher quality work." He declares as he starts existing the lab.  
  
"Y-yes, big Boss!" The Doctor calls out, it seems you are not the only one that feels intimidated by Black Hat's presence.  
  
You are left alone again with yet another unfamiliar setting and person. It is glaringly obvious that Dr. Flug seems to be an awkward young man, if his built and voice are anything to go by. He reminds you of those boys at school who got constantly picked on because they got too enthusiastic about learning and tended to hyper focus on certain subjects. A nerd, is the term other people would tend to use to describe him. Things could go either way with these type of boys, according to what you've heard your friends say. They either turned out to be the nicest and most helpful people you have ever met or they were vindictive devil's spawn with a penchant for condescension and snark, no in between. But you figure everyone deserves the benefit of the doubt and is silly to put people in boxes like that.

 "I don't think I caught your name..." The Doctor comments. You are taken off guard when someone finally asks things about you instead of delegating things to you. 

"Oh! My name is _______. Thanks for asking! You're the first one who has bothered to do so, although I don't mind being called 'Assistant'." You offer a genuine smile this time.

"... Well,  okay, Ms. Assistant." He replies unsure despite your enthusiasm, scratching at his paper bag.

"So you're the one who designed my uniform." You comment to break the silence and also out of curiosity to see what sort of person Dr, Flug is.

"I-um, yes, yes I did--although Mr. Black Hat still had to provide his final approval. I'm sorry, based on references and going by the boss' sense of style, I didn't think it would turn out like that," he motions to you, "it looks completely different on your type of um... body than what was expected, not as erhm--conservative as I thought it would look." Was he implying you made the outfit look inappropriate as if it wasn't designed like that to begin with? Well, now you know he is either brutally honest, socially inept or purposely obtuse, either way you are offended now. You'll show him inappropriate.

"Oh no, Doctor you've got nothing to apologize for! It's a lovely outfit." You say stalking up to him. "The ears were an unexpected surprise, very clever to include speakers in them." You use the tip of your fingers to slowly trace them and then move to the black emblem holding the high collar of your dress all the while leaning closer to him. "Black Hat's logo on my neck is a nice touch though a bit on the nose, don't you think?" He steps back a bit but the paper bag over his head doesn't cover his long neck and you can see him swallow thickly. "The fabric is of really nice quality and of course, it would have to be since it's very snug on my..." At this you caress your sides before swiftly bringing your hands to the underside of your breasts to bring them together for him. "... form."

By this time, you have him cornered into a table, he is sweating bullets. "Although I do have one small suggestion. The stockings, you see, don't fit my thighs very well and they keep slipping down." You feign distress and slowly go for the hem of your dress, "I had to use some of my own lingerie to fix the problem." You then lift up the hem to show him what you meant by revealing the black garter-belt strap holding onto the stocking over the expanse of your upper thigh, he makes a choking sound in return. "Perhaps you want to see how the rest looks for future reference so I won't make it 'less conservative'." You start going for the other thigh.

"No, no!! Stop that!" He grasps your wrists with trembling hands and pulls them away from your dress. "Alright, alright, I get it--that was uncalled for, I'm sorry. I'll modify it when i can. By the way, that was a dangerous game to play--specially on a major villain's turf." Oh, so not as obtuse as you thought as he now seems to feel like he's the one who was affronted--it was still fun to tease him though and you can't help but laugh as he lets go your wrists.

"How did you even know my exact measurements, Doctor? Please don't tell me you came inside my room while I was passed out yesterday night sleeping." You say half joking.

"The security cameras outside the mansion from when Demencia dragged you inside, they are really good at calculating an object's mass and size. I built them to have those capabilities... among others." He says while straightening up his attire.

Wait, so he saw when Demencia got you, so he must know it wasn't truly your choice to be here to begin with. "Um..." You begin but then he interrupts you and continues.

"It's good you opted to stay, it really doesn't surprise me though since not many can deny the boss' offers for contract or business once they meet him face-to-face." And it's really hard to tell whether he truly thinks Black Hat Org is a great place to work or if he's simply too scared to leave Black Hat's employment. Perhaps it's a mixture of both, but whatever the case may be you know how to read between the lines and decide to drop the subject altogether. Maybe the good Doctor wasn't the best person to discuss your inner turmoil with.

  
"Yeah, well I hope to be of use to the organization during my time here." You say and something in the way you said it must have caught Dr. Flug's attention as something in his eyes shifted when he turned to look at you again, yet he chose to remain silent for a while before speaking again.

"C'mon, I gotta show you around the lab so that we can get to work as soon as possible like our boss instructed us, otherwise he'll have our heads for dinner. That's no joke."

"What, but I haven't even had breakfast yet!" You say, and it is true. Dr. Flug then looks at you sighing, shoulders slumping. "Fine, follow me. Maybe I can also grab a cup of coffee and make some pancakes for us."

Yay, finally.

\-----------

You are starving you realize, once you see the fluffy pancakes with ham and eggs in a large plate sitting in front of you, you dig in.

5.0.5 joins you both for brunch in the massive kitchen with it's black marble counters and countless cabinets. A pleasant midday sun washes over the room as only the sounds of cutlery can be heard and the smell of freshly brewed coffee and butter hang in the air.

You are half way through your plate of food when Flug speaks up again in a tone as if he were merely discussing the morning news, you imagine to prevent you from freaking out, but it still ends up spoiling the rest of your long awaited meal.

"By the way, Ms. Assistant, the emblem button of your collar is also a tracking device, requested by Black Hat himself." He says after sipping from a long straw in a large deep coffee mug. "This is to deter you from a breach of contract. I thought you should know, that's all."

He states while calmly setting his mug down on the counter when you've already dropped your fork to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, it's hard for me to write Black Hat mostly because I think of his dialogue first in Spanish and then I have translate it to English in my head. Bilingual problems lol.  
> Comments are very much appreciated, talk to me about the series. I'm lonely


	5. All Part of the Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting familiar with the job

"'Light housekeeping' my ass." You mumble for the second time that day as you vacuum the the double staircase's carpet.  
  
It is 11 A.M. and you've already finished polishing the massive silver collection (which only took you 3 hours by the way), dusted the 5th Display Room, and have yet to polish the staircase's cherry wood rails by hand, mop the Entrance Hall's floor and wash and all the drapery of the first floor windows. This is on top of your scheduled time at the lab with Dr. Flug answering incoming phone calls, processing Invoices, organizing and filling inventory, and whatever else the overworked scientist needs. You've not the time to touch the Archive Room at the Library and count your blessing in that your scheduled visit to the Conservatory is not today. Your workday usually ended around 8 to 9 P.M. in the few days you've been at the mansion so far and you really wonder how 5.0.5. did it on his own for so long--the poor creature. Incidentally, your new boss has remained quiet all this time and you are completely fine with this as you tend to work more efficiently when a supervisor wasn't breathing down your neck. You could say you pretend you're just working for an obscenely wealthy eccentric, but the objects and environment around you make that really hard to conceive.

The other member of the Organization you've yet to see again is Demencia. When you asked Dr. Flug about it he said she'd been sent out on an "Errand" the day after you were hired, air quotations included, then you asked no more.

You are done with the last the double staircase leading upstairs so you start recoiling its hose when you hear a snake-like hissing sound above you. When you look up, speak of the devil, you see the terrifying sight of Demencia quickly crawling down the wall headed in your direction, you drop the vacuum's nozzle in terror.  
  
"Oh Sweet Jesus, that's some Exorcist level shit!" You grip the wall behind you while she cackles and lands in front of you, she smells of copper and you think you can see a few red stains on her face and green hair.  
  
"What? Never seen a girl crawl down a wall?" She grins from ear to ear and you recall the day she dragged you inside.

"Just got back thinking my darling would have you swimming with the fishes by now!" She says an promptly invades your personal space as she inspects your uniform. "So this is what Flug was working on--he wouldn't let me have a look when I left." She suddenly bends down and pulls up one of your feet to look at the black heel closer, making you almost lose your balance for a moment.  
  
"Hey! Quit it." You pull your foot away when she starts gnawing on the shoe for whatever obscure reason. "Yeah, I made it through the Interview... unfortunately. _**Thanks**_ for that by the way." Your words are dripping with sarcasm, you crouch down picking up the nozzle and begin again recoiling the vacuum's parts.  
  
"Sure, don't mention it!" She chirps looking down at you with hands behind her back and then with a wide smile and a matter of fact tone states.  
  
"I don't think you'll last."  
  
"Well," you stand up again gripping the vacuum's handle, "believe me, I would love to walk out the door right now but regrettably Mr. Black Hat had me sign a contract so I suspect the only way I'll be leaving is inside a coffin if I'm even afforded the dignity. And that is regardless I perform well or not, but I much rather do well and have my experience here be as painless as possible so I would like to stay on his good side." You pause and blink a few times. "if he has any."  
  
She laughs.  
  
"Well good luck with that, but just so you know, he keeps us around for a purpose, so you better find yours fast if you don't want to become more expandable than what you already are~." You try not to show how much of her taunting bothers you, only because you know it's true, but she continues.  
  
"Either way, I'll have my fun watching him work you into an early grave!" Don't let her get to you.  
  
"Done? I've got things to do... and by the way you need a shower, kiddo, you smell." You walk a few paces vacuum in tow when you feel a pair of hands on your back brusquely push you down the stairs. You have no time to react and fall down towards the center area where the two stairs meet, the vacuum's dirt container opened upon impact spreading all the dirt and dust over the area and on you in an ashy cloud of filth.  
  
"Who needs a shower now?!" She laughs before sprinting away, leaving you with double the work now.  
  
"Ow..."  
  
Although your bum hurt for a bit, you stand and to your relief find that you're okay. Nothing sprained even if that fall could have gone horribly, horribly wrong. You start dusting off yourself and think you'll probably have to change now after cleaning up again. In hindsight, you suppose you kind of deserved this for letting a teenager get the best of you.  
  
_____________________________  
  
"You're late." Dr. Flug accuses when you walk in through the doors.  
  
"Doctor, you didn't tell me she was back. She pushed me down the stairs with the vacuum--had to clean everything up again, that's why I'm late!" You walk up to him taking some blueprints from his currently full arms.  
  
"Who? Oh you mean Demencia, I didn't know she was back today, not like it would have mattered, you were going to see her sooner or later again anyway." He had a point. "Besides, you'll just have to live with the fact she'll be an unpredictable variable in half the work you try to get done, just be thankful it was dirt you had to clean up and not days' worth of progress." So no mercy from him either.  
  
"Wonderful." You reply as you start taping up his blueprints to the wall and who the hell ordered genetically modified squirrels as henchman? No--wait, you remember who, you took that call.  
  
"Well, I've already caught up with the invoices and the calls have died down since yesterday. Is there anything else you want me to help you with today, Doctor?" You dutifully offer.  
  
"Actually, yes. The Glacial Grenade is almost ready. I just need another pair of hands to write down observations and time intervals before I notify the boss of its completion." He says while setting up a large glass encasement on the floor, then he points to a clipboard and stopwatch on one of the counters  
  
"Okay." You go to go to grab it and when you return he has a cage of rabbits out. He grabs one and pets it before placing it inside the encasing. You stand there and are not sure how to react.  
  
"Are you going to do what I think you're going to do, Doctor?"  
  
"Would you rather I use a human test subject?" He snarks back, and you furiously shake your head. "The boss is not opposed to grabbing some random off the street, you know. Personally, I think it would be a hassle, so this is the best alternative we have." He then sighs. "Listen, I don't like it anymore than you do. but you gotta do what you gotta do. Hold on, let me lock the door to make sure 5.0.5. doesn't come in."  
  
You already feel awful.  
  
All the white rabbits are used during the test run, the one saving grace is that their end was swift and unsuspected by them as they froze into ice statues once the prototype went off. It was kind of hard to watch every single time, and wonder how the Doctor can do this since he does not seem to flinch even once. Your hands are shaking by the time you hand over the clipboard to the Doctor.  
  
"Great. Thanks for the notes, I hadn't had a chance to do this level of detailed documentation on the last products--and we finished ahead of schedule." He says while looking over your writing. You decide to sit for a bit in one of the chairs in the lab. "I think this will be all for today, knowing the Boss, we'll probably start shooting tomorrow. You can go now." He dismisses you and for the first time in days you have a bit of extra time before bed.  
  
"Thank you, Doctor. Good night." You feel more tired than your first day on the job as you walk back to your room, your appetite is non-existent. Inside your room, the blinking light of your phone notifies you of a missed call. When you unlock the screen you see that it's your mother's number. She left a voice message.  
  
" _Hola, mi vida. Como estas?_ Your dad and I are getting kind of worried. You haven't called us in a while. Please, call us when you can."  
  
Without thinking twice, you dial home and the phone is immediately picked up. " _Mi'ja, por que no nos habias hablado antes? Estaba muy preocupada por ti, corazon!_ "  
  
" _Mama_?" Your voice breaks a bit. "I'm sorry I was really busy since I got a new job." You sit down on the bed and a take a deep breath to continue with your lie. "It's a great company, but the shifts are brutal!"  
  
" _Ay, corazon._ I was thinking of making a trip to go see you, we were worried sick! Did you hear that, _gordo?_ She's fine and got a new job!" She yells at your dad, who you imagine is watching TV in the living room. Then your hear some rustling and suddenly he's on the line as well.

"Hey there, Sweetie. Your mother here was nagging me to take her to see you, but I told her to give you a bit of time. You're a big girl now!"  
  
" _No seas chismoso_ , you asked me everyday if she called too! Put in on speaker, _gordo._ " You heard your mom in the background and finally laughed even as tears threaten to flow out of the corners of your eyes. You feel kind of guilty over not calling them sooner and only now you realize you desperately needed to hear their voice.  
  
"I have a very hectic schedule right now, so don't bother. Although I do want to let you know that I moved out and have my own place now, it's in Hatsville." That was more or less the truth, you say before dabbing some runaway tears from the corner of your eyes.  
  
" _Ay que bueno, mi'ja!_ I hope you're taking care of yourself and eating well, remember that is also part of being a responsible adult." Your parents never wasted an opportunity in doting on you in anyway they could. Of course, you could not bear to tell them where their only daughter ended up. "But Hatsville, _mi'ja_? Isn't that where--" You cut them off before they could continue.  
  
"I'm working at international conglomerate with great benefits and pay, it's great and there's nothing to worry about!" You hope your enthusiasm prevents them from asking anymore questions, and it works as they then proceeded to ask things about your new job.  
  
You gave them vague explanations and half truths of things but ended up telling them about Dr. Flug, although you omitted the part where he is also a mad scientist, avoiding giving much information about the true nature of his work. Instead you opted to comment on his mannerisms and poor appearance due to tight schedules of the high-paced company. Your mom gave you tips to pass onto him on how to take better care of himself, she was always on the lookout for new children to mother and the fact she had not met him didn't stop her from already caring. You assured her you would let him know and already felt a lot better after speaking with them.  
  
"So when is your next day off? You know, Mr. Lovern's birthday is coming up and he invited us to his birthday party. Said his nephew, Ryan, will be visiting. Remember him?" Your father was talking about the next door neighbor, a nice elderly man coming from long line of heroes and a large family whose nieces and nephews visited him often. You had met all of them at some point, including Ryan, a now tall (according to your parents since he used to be a little too short even for his age the last time you saw him) and handsome All-American boy who your parents thought made a good match for you. You sigh.  
  
"You know last time we spoke with Mr. Lovern, he said Ryan was still single--and best of all, has already become a licensed hero! I forgot his Alias, but _mi'ja_ , you should give it a try!" You laugh, not only because the very idea was silly but now more then ever it was impossible that could even come to be.  
  
"So sorry, you guys, I'm new at this place and my new boss is kind of strict so I don't think I can make the trip. Also, stop trying to find me a boyfriend, it's embarrassing!" And not plausible right now.  
  
"Butter him up, honey! It's a couple of weeks from now, you have time!" You cannot believe...  
  
"No, I will not. You don't know my boss, he can be quite special and this job is really important to me." Mainly in that you wanted to stay alive. "This conversation is over. I have to go to bed." You declare.  
  
"Okay, okay, we understand, but if you change your mind, let us know!" Your dad responds this time.  
  
You sigh and bid them good night before hanging up. You loved your parents but they could be quite something sometimes. Nonetheless, you love them and are thankful to have them. You wonder, if you will ever tell them about the truth of your new employer as you start getting ready for bed.  
  
_________________________  
  
"Assistant! To the lab. Now." Black Hat's abrupt command comes through the receivers in your accessorized ears.  
  
You are polishing the Dining Room table's legs on your hands and knees underneath it and hit your head on the surface when you jolt to attention. Then you scramble out as fast as you can to obey leaving your work unfinished as you start heading to the lab.  
  
"Yessir, I'm here!" You announce as if the sound of your heels hadn't given you away already.  
  
Dr. Flug, 5.0.5, and Black Hat are already there along with a massive machine-camera looking thing that makes you stop on your tracks. The thing looked vicious with its long spidery legs and many arms which held an array of microphones, film cards and lights--with an the extra sharp looking claws you are not sure were needed. A director's hat sat on the main piece which was the camera itself and where all its limbs connected, it would have made for humorous sight contrasting with the rest of the strange-looking robot, however, you could not find it in yourself to laugh at the moment as it loomed at an impressive height above everyone.  
  
"Meet the Cam-Bot, a mechanism conceived by yours truly." Black Hat's insidiously toned voice drags your attention from the bot to him.  
  
"Th-that's quite amazing, sir..." You stutter out.  
  
"Indeed and while it can also maim, today we will use it to begin and _end_ preparing the marketing material for my latest product." Black Hat informs you.  
  
At first you were not entirely sure what you were needed for, while you watch Dr. Flug do a major set up similar to the trials carried out the day before. However, this time in a much larger scale complete with a humongous glass enclosure, he seems to have everything under control despite continuously dropping some items in his nervous haste. You shudder to think who or what will be the subject of this demonstration. 5.0.5 stands off to the side observing as well and you can't help but wonder where Demencia is too. Black Hat interrupts your thoughts to tell you you'll also be on camera and on hand for anything else they may need. You nod along despite knowing full well that you have zero experience being on camera.  
  
"Your looks are adequate enough to enhance the appeal of our gadgets' presentation to the amalgam of scoundrels looking to purchase them, that's one of the reasons you got the job." Although you are taken by surprise to learn his decision on hiring you was due part to a marketing tactic, it did nothing to ease you as your camera experience is still nonexistent, yet here you are expected to perform.  
  
You also resent not being forewarned, that way you could have at least made an effort to look more presentable today. Then, as if reading your mind, you hear him say to the camera bot. "Do something about her hair and face, I can tell she spent the entire morning under a cobweb duster." After that he promptly sits on one the scattered wheeled chairs nearby.  
  
Oh no, no nonono--the Cam-Bot starts approaching while you step back. "Sir, i-if you'll allow me. I can go up to my room and freshen up real quick!"  
  
"Nonsense, Flug is almost done." He dismisses your suggestion.  
  
"Brwh?" 5.0.5 perhaps sensing your uneasiness or simply out of curiosity goes to stand by your side, you take advantage of this and grab his paw for comfort.  
  
The bot produces a hairbrush, make-up powder puff and other items. With surprising deftness and some tugging, one of the limbs runs the brush through your hair undoing the knots formed there and rearranging it. This while the other limb with the puff dabs your face absorbing all the accumulated facial oil. A third limb uses a lint roller through your dark uniform to pick up the dust, while another claw fixes its folds and then your white pillbox hat. Finally a third claw brandishes a maroon colored lipstick and goes to work applying it on your lips. Well, that wasn't so bad, you sigh when the thing retreats back to its original position in the lab. Still, you were told less than 5 minutes ago that that thing could potentially kill people.  
  
"So what do you think? I made it to be precise." Flug is suddenly next to you as well, asking for input for his terrifying machine, you almost shoot him a glare for that but then your superior stands up signaling he is ready for the shoot.  
  
"Don't worry, today you'll just be holding the devices while I explain their function." The Doctor hurriedly tells you before pulling you by the arm to stand at your designated spot. You are relieved to know you'll be just a showroom girl this time around.  
  
"Doctor, make haste!" Black Hat barks from his position in front of the Cam-Bot.  
  
...........................................................................  
  
"Greetings, despicable agents of evil! Your trusted supplier of villainous weapons, Black Hat," he tips his hat at this, "brings you today a new wicked apparatus to freeze and shatter the pesky heroes that try to block your path of calamitous intent. Behold, our new invention--The Glacial Grenade!"

From where you stand, you attentively watch Black Hat's wide array of exuberant hand gestures and charisma exuded the moment the Cam-Bot starts filming.  
  
"This nefarious weapon, is especially useful against elemental enemies whose weakness are of the frosty kind. It can be used in two modules." Dr. Flug says at your side while taking one of the two round white glowing devices from the tray you are holding. You pleasantly nod and then smile in the direction of the camera, though slightly tense, you try not to show it. Your breathing evens out and you start to think you can do this.  
  
"Module B is a motion activated blast, observe." The young Doctor instructs and your enthusiasm deflates. Nope, you cannot do this, You don't want to observe what other unfortunate creature will be sacrificed this time as Dr. Flug throws a grenade inside the tall glass box through an automated window he remotely controls closing it after it lands. You almost discreetly walk away off frame until you see Black Hat approaching. You abort your escape and stay in place with a professional smile on your face until you see a panel from the inside wall slide up to reveal a square entrance from where several little wheeled Hatbots roll in toting flame-throwers at full blast.

Thank god.  
  
However, none of the robots manage to get too close because the glowing spherical device detects their approach triggering a beeping sound before it intones in a calm mechanical voice "Glory to Black Hat." Then it explodes in a display of snow and sharp ice stalagmites which pierce the bots in gnarly angles rendering them and their flame-throwers useless.  
  
"The snow has been chemically modified so that, if the deadly ice spikes don't get them, poisoning from the toxic snow surely will." Dr. Flug adds with gusto. So he must have done some overnight modifications. A huge metal nozzle peaks from the same entrance where the Hatbots came from, inhaling all the ice debris and the now useless husks of metal leaving the area relatively clean. Next, Black Hat takes the second smooth sphere from your tray, this one is glowing red.  
  
"Now we will demonstrate with a live subject our product's original purpose, that is--a decimating icy explosion that'll end your enemies!" His grin is wider, "Module A!" He displays his green piercing fangs while tightening his free hand into a fist in an invigorating gesture. You swallow trying to rid of the heavy feeling that settles over your chest while he glares at the scientist prompting him to quickly open the glass enclosure window a second time with his remote.  
  
"5.0.5! Get in there!" You flinch upon hearing his command and yet do nothing as the blue bear is brought forward by Dr. Flug himself.  
  
5.0.5 is being comforted by the scientist with shushing sounds and reassurances as the animal steps inside the glass enclosure through a separate door at the other end, he doesn't even resist. Your heartbeat quickens, this time your ever present smile falters as the image of the frozen rabbit statues flashes through your mind while you see 5.0.5 standing inside. Dr.Flug hastily returns with shaking knees to the front of the enclosure to close its window with the remote so that Black Hat can finish the demonstration.  
  
Ever the impatient entity, your boss decides to throw in the Grenade without waiting for the Doctor to arrive, it hits the floor with a solid clunk close to 5.0.5's trembling paws. However, the anxiety ridden scientist chooses that exact moment to trip over a stray cable he overlooked while getting the set-up ready; landing flat on his face and over the remote he clutches to close the window shattering it upon landing, the device that controlled the one barrier that would protect you all from the oncoming blast in pieces now. Your mind races as now not only do you have to worry over the blue bear inside but also over your own safety too as the window remains wide open and Black Hat turns a menacing snarl toward the poor Doctor on the floor, moments pass by while Black Hat begins to berate him.

Crap, crap, _crapcrapfuck-shit!_ You do the only thing that comes to mind since it's evident your boss' priorities are not congruent with yours and use the heavy large empty tray in your hands holding it from the handles to swiftly cover the open window, sealing it closed hoping it's enough as you tightly shut your eyes and hold your breath not wanting to see either 5.0.5's or possibly your icy demise. There's the familiar beeping sound from earlier.

"Glory to Black Hat." The second Grenade detonates.

Then all you hear is a muffled explosion, the sound of crystallization, followed by yelp at the same time you feel the glass quake under your hands from where you're holding the tray due to your proximity to it and the blast. After that, everything else is quiet and you dare open your eyes to look down and see that although you managed to contain much of the damage, an ice spike perforated the tray and was only centimeters away from touching the black fabric over your breasts. You let the tray go, held in place by the spike, choosing not to look at what's inside the glass case feeling the telltale sting of tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes. So you look back instead to find Black Hat looking at you with an unreadable expression over his face even as he clutches Dr. Flug's thorat with one hand and a threatening fist in the other. But he then quickly composes himself, straightens up, drops his second-in-command to the floor and returns to his businessman persona.  
  
"What we've shown you here is but a small range of the mayhem and destruction the Grenade can create. Isn't that right, Dr Flug?" Black Hat expectantly questions the Doctor on the floor while the scientist is still trying to recover from the mistreatment and fall, this takes a second too long as you see Dr. Flug attempt at a reply while Black Hat's fist begin to tighten again at his back. The young Doctor lifts up three fingers from the ground and then you know what he is trying to say remembering the notes he dictated you the night prior.  
  
"Th-that's right, Lord Black Hat! If you'll let me explain instead." You say before you can stop yourself, expecting him to go off on you instead but he only shoots you a second impassive glare in response so you decide to press on. "It comes in three different ranges; from Small for Shopping Mall Disasters, Medium-for Foot Ball Stadium reach, to Large which covers a small town or city area! Additionally, you can also customize the last farewell message you want your poor victims to hear!" Your mask of complacency is back although you are sure your eyes are glassy with the barely contained tears. Yet he seems satisfied enough with the answer and finally decides to end the torture turning his gaze back at the camera.  
  
"So what are you stupidly waiting there for, place your order **NOW _or beware!_** " The lights flickered and his voice distorted, you shuddered to imagine the face he must have made to Cam-Bot when it emits a small malfunctioning spark for a brief second.  
  
But after the momentary malfunction the robotized camera clicks the film card signaling the merciful closure of the recorded marketing material.

.................................................

Cam-Bot retreats to process the film while you slide down the glass wall joining the Doctor on the floor, taking a moment to calm yourself.

"You are extremely lucky this girl has proven not to be a complete idiot, otherwise I'd put you inside the glass cage along with your abomination and use the remaining stock of explosives to end you!" Black Hat towers over you both, making you feel like a chastised child even as his anger was directed at the Doctor.

"I am so sorry, Sire! I'll make sure this doesn't happen again..." Dr. Flug slowly gets up from the floor supporting his weight with one of the chairs near by. You do the same despite your still trembling legs since the cold from the glass wall and floor is starting to numb your skin.

"It better not, doctor. Or. Else." Your boss threatens again, this time the eye not covered by his monocle briefly turns red before returning to normal. "Now make sure to clean this mess and concentrate on those unfinished commissions. I have another project I want you to work on."

"Yes, B-boss." Comes Dr. Flug's reply as he starts typing something on a computer from one of the stations.

"As for _you_ ," Black Hat stands before you, hitting his cane on the floor commanding your attention. "Come to my study, I have some tasks for you." Black Hat finishes before Dr. Flug draws his attention away to ask something about prices and amounts.

Overwhelmed by his proximity, you make the mistake of turning to the glass enclosure to see the sweet blue bear frozen in place painfully impaled by the glacial spikes from the grenade, he is shielding his face with his paws as if that could have prevented his cruel fate while covered in the innocent looking white snow. You choke down a gasp covering your mouth with a hand, but a tear from sheer shock at the sight escapes your eye still.

Then a deceptively gentle tap from a gloved hand to your cheekbone wrenches your stare away from the scene. 

"This." Black Hat continues, tapping a second time with his slender finger at your trailing tear.

"Correct this." He says.

"Or I will." He ends.

 

..............................................................

 

After he is well out of ear shot, Dr. Flug turns to you. "Hey... thanks for that."

"It's okay, Doctor. Don't thank me--all part of the job and all that." You are still trying to control your breathing leaning onto a table's surface.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I thought I was writing the characters too cruel, but after watching the 4th Orientation video I am relieved to know they have juuuust the right amount of villainy. 
> 
> Thank you for the kind comments I sometimes re-read to motivate.  
> The juicy bits are coming, trust me.


	6. Learning from Failure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Reader becomes very acquainted with the mansion's floor. but like not the way one would hope.

"Black Hat Organization. Evil delivered to the comfort of your home! How can I assist you today?"  
  
You spent that same afternoon of the recording taking phone calls alongside the young scientist after the material was successfully edited, processed and launched. Desks side by side as you both frantically typed up orders on spreadsheet after spreadsheet of countless invoices. Within the first hour the Organization had already earned back the manufacturing investment, if the financial goal taped up on the wall was anything to go by. By the second hour, all stock completely sold out. It was an unnerving to know first hand how much demand exists for such weapons from villains around the world who don't think twice about putting them to use.  
  
"Will that be all for you today, ma'am?... Okay, then... Happy to make business with you and have a nice day!" You end the last call and then proceed to slump over your desk, completely drained.  
  
"How can you do that?" Dr. Flug asks while in the same posture as you from his own desk. "I was ready to rip my hair out an hour ago, but there you are with the same charming tone as when we started."  
  
"I'm surprised, Doctor, you've been here far longer than me... I'd figure you'd be used to this by now." You respond, too tired to move.  
  
"Yeah, but I never said I was any good at this Costumer Service BS. Besides, these items were out the door in record time." He reaches for the now cold cup of coffee with a straw on his desk.  
  
You remain quiet for a time, and you think you would definitely celebrate record sales had you been working for any other company, but after having a front row seat to the Grenades' capabilities--you feel partially responsible for the chaos they were about to bring into the world.  
  
"Are you sure 5.0.5. will be okay?" You turn your thoughts to something nicer.  
  
"Yes, he'll be fine. I said before, he was made to be virtually indestructible." The Doctor sits up and looks at this desk in silence, you again find solace knowing someone else feels just as miserable as you after the whole ordeal.  
  
"He just needs to rest for some time, that's all..." He seems to reassures himself more than anyone else. After a moment he turns to you.  
  
"By the way, before you go the Conservatory tomorrow, stop by if you don't want to end up dead, it's a pretty isolated part of the house so it'll be days before anyone think to look for your body in there."  
  
And there goes your moment of comradeship.  
  
..............................  
  
  
So here you are pushing a cart with a large container and a small stack of instructions heading to the Conservatory. Frankly, you are surprised that you even remember your way there after your Boss showed you around, since you were too busy trying not anger him to pay any mind to your surroundings. It is separated from the rest of the mansion by a set of double metal doors with forged vile looking fauna engraved onto its dark frames. After you unlock them with the keys the Doctor gave you, you push the cart through a long glass corridor from where you can see the outside. The bright light from the exterior makes you stop for a moment to admire the sunny sky and to observe the other homes in the neighborhood. There's a few cars passing by and the occasional person walking their dog or out for a jog, a little perplexed at their resilience in their attempts at a normal life with your Boss as their neighbor. And then you wonder if you'll ever be given the luxury of a day off anytime soon since you are running out of excuses to give your friends and family.  
  
Snapping back to the task at hand you continue your trek to the glass structure ahead. Entering a code onto the electric panel grants you access to the Conservatory. The musky earth smell combined with the humidity overwhelm you as soon as you step inside and immediately regret not reading the papers given to you before coming in. There is a board hung up to your left and a clipboard set in a narrow counter below it. You replace the pages on the clipboard with new ones and take the other ones for Dr. Flug to review, proceeding to read the instructions and precautions he gave you for the first subject on the list. You grab one of the tools set aside and get to work collecting samples, taking measurements. and irrigating exact amounts of water and other substances to the ones that need it. All this was easier said than done, as every plant was capable of wrecking havoc of varying degrees. Several possessed sharp teeth in unsuspecting places until you went to handle them, others exhaled nasty gaseous pollen upon detection of movement. The only actual flowers living alongside the other plants had beautiful large maroon petals, but also possessed a veiny eyeball at their center and seemed to try to reach for your heart every time you bent down to gather soil samples. More amused than scared, you continued to work so that you could leave the humidity of the place as soon as possible.  
  
Everything was relatively quiet while you worked although you did hear an occasional hissing sound around you, but chalked it up to your imagination and contemplate asking Dr. Flug to let you listen to music while you worked instead.  
  
Time flew until you got to the last page of your instructions. They were short and to the point unlike the rest of the Conservatory specimens, which should make you happy but instead unnerves you, considering how nothing in this house was never as easy as it seems on the surface. They read in Dr. Flug's almost indecipherable cursive handwriting:  
  
**Instructions: Toss feeding container's contents as far away as you can. IMMEDIATELY LEAVE and LOCK doors.**  
  
**DO NOT STAY more than necessary.**  
  
O-kay... feeding container? Did he mean the box? Wait, those hissing sounds...?  
  
Oh Great.  
  
You go to quickly open the box's lid, brazing yourself for the surprise inside; they are the rabbits used as test subjects the other day. Their bodies thawed of snow but still have holes in them where dagger like iced sickles pierced them. A mixture of nausea and pity manifests itself in your gut, so you move away from the box feeling a bit ill.  
  
Then you hear it. The hissing again, but this time it is much closer to you and you watch several of the plants' dense leaves move in isolated areas of the foliage. It seems to be a large creature judging by the lengthy expanse of shrubbery it moves with its body. The hissing comes closer and you think you can see a dark forked tongue peak out from in between a carnivorous plant a few feet away from you, covered in shadow and tasting the air along with the promise of food with it.  
  
You are so thankful for the gardening gloves provided as you hastily grab two rabbits by the ears and fling them as far away from you as possible, hoping the hidden creature follows it. Fortunately, it does as the rabbits hit the ground with muffled thumps, the animal retreats to follow the sound and you take this opportunity to toss out the rest in different parts of the Conservatory to give you enough time to gather the equipment and finally leave the place.  
  
With trembling hands you enter the code again once outside the Conservatory to lock it. You hope to never see 'Black Hat's pet', as the documents describe it, face to face, yet are well aware of the very real possibility of that in the future.  
  
With a red marker, you check the box on the list next to the label "LIL' JACK."  
  
............................................  
  
While walking on your way back through the glass corridor, the sound of a loud car's purring engine grabs your attention. It belongs to a golden chrome sports car with red tinted windows and it slows down to pull up in front of the Mansion's gates, it reflects the golden sun on its polished surface. You stop pushing the cart to observe the curious sight as a man dressed in a dark-red suit emerges from the driver's seat, donning a pair of red tinted circular sunglasses with golden frames. The man has dark hair slicked back in an impeccable style. He looks like a model with his pronounced jaw and long legs, strutting with intent approaching the front gate. You think he will definitely ring the bell and then panic a little since you don't recall being told of any expected visitors arriving. But all that he does is open the mail box encased in the concrete pillars of the fence to drop off an envelop he produces from inside the lapel of his suit.  
  
The man suddenly turns in your direction and you freeze realizing he's aware of your presence. However, he merely gives you curt nod and retreats back to the waiting vehicle, driving away a few moments later in his purring car.  
  
Well, that was odd.  
  
You quickly go to deliver back the supplies and data to Dr. Flug, thinking that it is better he investigates the mysterious mail instead.  
  
............................................  
  
Black Hat entrusted you with reorganizing his private collection of ancient writings after the little ice grenade stunt the other day. It is an extensive collection of books and long lost scriptures which require care in their handling, he deemed you competent enough to be able to handle this task. However, you don't think you'll get to finish today, you think while stepping up on the small ladder to reach the books placed in the higher shelves.  
  
A black spot swiftly moves from the shelf's corner. "What th-!"  
  
A humongous bug crawls out from behind one of the aged tomes you are currently in the process of reorganizing. It is the biggest Black Widow you've ever seen in your life, you drop everything in a panicked haste to get down the stepping ladder and end up slipping and falling to the floor.  
  
"Agh!" Duster, books and cleaning materials scatter around you.  
  
In an adrenaline rush, you use your heels to push yourself as far as you can away from the bookshelf wall fearing where the spider might have landed, trying to put as much distance from you and the mess as possible while frantically searching for the bug.  
  
"Mh ha ha ha! Hilarious." Your Employer mocks from where he currently sits on his chair, leaned back, feet on the desk, and newspaper in hand as he regards you with a bemused smirk. You still sit on the floor a hand over your chest in an attempt to still the thumping of your heart. You cannot find it in yourself to feel angry because, of course he would find joy in your misery, of course.  
  
"Sir, with all due respect, how long since anyone has cleaned your study?!" You get up from the floor to straightening your dress which had ridden up during the fall.  
  
It was so hard working with the darn uniform as every little movement revealed so much. And while that usually wasn't a problem since you worked alone for a good portion of the time anyway, here... and with your boss nearby--you made a mental note to remind Dr. Flug to make modifications to the stupid thing as soon as he could. Though, granted, your boss never showed any interest in you outside of tormenting and giving you tasks, so perhaps after everything was said and done, in the end it was all the same to him whether you dressed like a Playboy bunny or like a trailer hillbilly, as long as it sold things and you did as you were told.  
  
"Cannot recall, since I don't allow 5.0.5 in here, the blue failure irritates me." He replies with disinterest, already going back to the newspaper. "Now get back to work, I don't pay you to waste my time with your insipid questioning." Ouch, but you guess that's true enough.  
  
"Yes, sir." You start picking up the books on the floor in silence.  
  
"Tomorrow our generous clients are due to arrive for their requested little visit. I want this place to look like I have competent staff working for me."  
  
"I've taken care of that, sir." You already made preparations in anticipation of their arrival and had a few specialty food items coming in later in the afternoon as Dr. Flug 'suggested' you do.  
  
To be honest, you were a little surprised to hear the news from Black Hat himself, about the expected visitors coming in. He did not seem like the type of entity who tolerated much company if he could not benefit from it--but then you recalled the congenial front he put up while filming the last commercial and conclude his business had some level of importance to him, after all.  
  
"Hm." Is his only reply.  
  
"If I may ask, sir," No reprimand, so you continue, "what kind of person is this client? I just want to know so I can mentally prepare." You tentatively finish your inquiry while dusting off an old leather book and placing it aside, hoping you did not test your boss' patience.  
  
"Nothing like the irritable pests you've dealt with or seen before. This one manages to pull off high-profile kidnappings, warhead heists, and region destabilization with a consistent level of success. Otherwise I would not have welcomed him in my mansion, not for a good price at least. A nasty individual who would not think twice about stabbing you in the back, hard to find a man like that nowadays."  
  
"Oh." Well, if you weren't nervous before--you sure are now. "W-what could a man like that possibly need from the Organization? He seems to have it together pretty well..." You start fidgeting with the large black button of the neck of your dress, the nervous tick you've developed over the days.  
  
"He is looking to close a deal for a line of arsenal designed exclusively for him." He's laid his newspaper down and is now reading a file he sent you to fetch for him earlier. "He's been harassing me with that ridiculous proposal for ages now. I think it'll be a waste to have Flug's brain orchestrate mayhem for only one evil-doer when there's a long list of others who can spread it just as well instead."  
  
"I-I see." You say and return to dusting his shelves regretting asking anything and dreading the theatrics you'll have to play to please his guest, praying to whatever higher powers may be, that you don't embarrass yourself tomorrow.  
  
"By the way, the spider is still tangled in your hair." He notes from his chair. Naturally, you shriek in panic shaking off he arachnid off your hair, to see it land on the floor and scurry away back to the bookshelf.  
  
Another fit of mirthful laughter fills the study, courtesy of your boss.  
  
...............................................  
  
  
It is 3:45 PM when the mansion's phone rings and it comes looking for you as fast as its little pointy legs will carry it. It was kind of cute to watch once you got used to it to be honest.  
  
"Black Hat Mansion. Please state your business." You greet as you were instructed during one of many "mini-orientation sessions." The 'please' was a personal touch though.  
  
It was the delivery man from the gourmet catering service you commissioned, he's waiting outside requesting a signature. You are going to tip well commending the poor guy for not promptly driving away after seeing the dark top hat shaped mansion, he sure is a committed fellow. After requesting he wait a few minutes you wheel out a cart from the kitchen to carry the variety of food and appetizers ordered a few days prior, you then call Dr. Flug through the communicator he gave you after asking you to do so when the order arrived and to wait for him then. Not understanding the reason for this, you tried to contact him regardless by pressing the button of the small circular device branded with the Organization's logo.  
  
"Doctor, the delivery boy is here. Do you need to be here to sign off on the order or...?" You ask already standing inside the mansion's door, cart ready and everything.  
  
You wait a few moments before trying again with no answer still. Suddenly, though. there was the sound of the Doctor's unintelligible speech and of Demencia's laughter in the background followed by a cacophony of static, loud bangs and crashing noises. The call then abruptly goes silent after a shriek of joy is heard closing in on the speaker.  
  
Well. The Doctor seems to be busy at the moment and there's no 5.0.5 in sight, so you see no harm in taking the initiative of receiving the order since you don't want to keep the guy outside waiting more than necessary.  
  
You go to open the massive cherry wood doors, pulling their weight with some amount of effort, your heels sliding along the floor with the friction. It is the first time you touched them after the first day you were yanked through and wondered how in the world was Demencia able to kick them open with such ease before. A dull but brief mechanical sound is heard which made you pause for a moment, yet nothing else happened so you continued opening the door. Once that was done you went to pull your cart through the entrance.  
  
The daylight momentarily blinds you while you stepped out, it had been quite a while since you breathed in fresh air. One thing was to stand by a window looking on to the outside and another entirely different was to actually stand outside in the afternoon breeze. It was pleasant and to be quite honest, you really missed this. After looking around the quiet neighborhood, you walked through the long expanse of concrete and over the sickly looking lawn, making your way over to the entrance gate. Opening it with ease, glad it wasn't locked but failing to notice a mechanical hum and clanking noises coming from the behind the mansion's back walls.  
  
"Hello, good afternoon!" You cheerfully greet the delivery man who was currently busy unloading the van's contents wearing an off-white jumpsuit. He startles when he hears your voice, dropping a few boxes of supplies, before whipping around with an alarmed look on his face. He is slender, tall with tanned skin, dark hair and a thick set of eyebrows--he looks to be in his early twenties, same as you.  
  
"Hi." You wiggle your fingers in a sheepish greeting this time. His eyes scan you over and after a moment he seems to determine you are not a threat and exhales the air he was holding.  
  
"Sweet Jesus, you scared the crap out of me. I'm already jumpy as it is coming to visit this place!" He says, but visibly relaxing and leaning back onto the van to catch his breath before bending down to pick up the boxes.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry--I didn't mean to do that. Here let me help you get that." You start helping him picking up the supplies from the floor.  
  
"You are new here, I've never seen you around before." He lightly comments. You wonder how he would even know that. "Uh sorry, it's just that this is not my first time delivering to this address, but it is the first time I see you so I figured." Oh, that makes sense. The catering service list was provided to you by Dr. Flug after all.  
  
"Yeah, just started a couple of weeks ago. Still don't know my way around but I sure am trying." You feign enthusiasm and shoot him a long suffering smile while handing him a restocked box of disposable kitchen ware. He chuckles a little.  
  
"You're so... different, nice even. Wow, never thought I'd see the day they'd hire someone so normal and--err, I mean...I meant that in the nicest way possible." He stammers once again but you interrupt him with laughter instead.  
  
"No, no, it's fine. I get what you mean. Thanks." You smile at his awkward honesty. It was so nice to finally speak to someone normally face to face, you never thought there'd be a time in your life where you felt so happy to engage in mundane everyday conversation. He thanks you and pulls the cart behind you to load it with different covered trays of prepared food. You try to help him but he refuses your aid, as "a lady should not do any heavy lifting" he says and that chivalrous treatment feels kind of nice, you had forgotten what is was like to receive attention and consideration from other guys before.  
  
"I'm surprised to find that your employer has not flat out refused to take orders from the Black Hat Mansion." You comment to make conversation.  
  
"Haha! Well, it's not like we could refuse anyway. My dad is well aware of the consequences, we're a small business after all." You are a bit taken aback by his reply and instantly feel terrible for your thoughtless remark.  
  
"Oh, I am so sorry, I feel like a fool--I didn't mean to-"  
  
"It's okay, ma'am, you didn't know." He kindly forgives your jackass statement and has the grace to divert the conversation instead, which turn to normal topics of work, life and school. As it turns out he is about to finish culinary school to help his father with the business, which he pretty much knows like the back of his hand by now--but formal training and credentialing tends to really boost business he says. He asks where you're from and if you had family in the area, you answered truthfully most of his questions but avoided telling whether they knew where you worked. At that point, he is almost done arranging the last tray on your cart when he asks.  
  
"I see that there's no Doctor today, huh?"  
  
"No. I think he had other stuff to attend to." Surprised, he even knew who Dr. Flug was.  
  
"Well then, I guess that I can let you in on this instead." He secretly says and you perk up a little.  
  
"Oh?" He motions for you to come closer to the back of the van. Passing the open doors of the delivery van, in the shadows of the afternoon light, lays a large red cooler. When he opens it, you see that it's filled with small pink boxes. He grabs one from the top and opens it to show you carefully arranged appetizers. They are an array of assorted snacks ranging from beautifully decorated phyllo shells, shrimp tapas, prosciutto and smoked salmon crostini, to antipasto skewers of every fine cheese and curated meat and vegetable imaginable.  
  
"Oh my goodness, they look amazing!" You gasp.  
  
"Go ahead, try them! I actually made these a couple of hours ago and my father suggested I gave clients samples to see what they thought. Maybe we can introduce them to the official menu if people show enough interest." He looks so proud and hopeful, this wonderful stranger was quickly becoming your best friend within the span of minutes, darn your treacherous heart--err stomach, for letting people win you over so easily with food. Gourmet food at that.  
  
"I am honored." You say and truly mean it, unable to recall the last time you were able to indulge yourself with decadent treats. At first it was hard for you to decide which one to try first, but finally settle for colorful skewer with high quality produce and pickled salmon. You take a bite and the flavors explode in your mouth, the sweetness and delicious seasonings mix together making your mouth water with every bite.  
  
"My Lord, that was delicious." Swallowing the tasty morsel, you give him your honest opinion smiling. His chest seems to swell with pride even more and you giggle at his reaction.  
  
"Try another one, as many as you'd like." He says, offering you more from his box of expensive appetizers. You go for a crostini this time, biting on the blue cheese and prosciutto, reveling in the taste, for a moment closing your eyes. You've spent so much time confined within the walls of that mansion that you'd forgotten how vivid and alive everything else was on the outside world, lamenting over everything you'll be missing until who knows when. if ever. Opening your eyes, you realize they feel a bit teary now and also notice him watching you with a look of concern over his face.  
  
"A-are you okay, ma'am? Don't tell me it's the food." He jokes to lighten the mood. You laugh along to cover the fact that you are indeed not okay.  
  
"No, but seriously, ma'am, are you okay?" He asks again. He asks again as if he could do anything about it.  
  
"I'm sorry, it's just that so much has happened in such a small amount of time since I got here, that--I-I just..." _Forgot what it was like to be treated kindly_. Your voice breaks and you stop yourself from talking anymore, because if you continued you knew you'd end up bawling outside the mansion to a man you just met.  
  
"Here, you can keep these." He gives you the pink box he opened, and without thinking you take it with both hands feeling a little thrown off now.  
  
"Um..." You start, but then he goes to grab more boxes from the cooler.  
  
"And these too, take them. Free--this is the first time a client has nearly cried over the taste of my food. You deserve these!" He says arms full of hundreds of dollars worth of exclusive food. You can't help it and find yourself laughing out loud out of pure silliness and humor this time. What a strange guy the delivery boy turned out to be, you muse and half lean half sit on the edge of the van.  
  
"No, please. It's not necessary, I'm fine now. Thank you." You try to reason after you're done with the hysterics, putting the box down.  
  
"I insist." He firmly says and goes to put the boxes on top of the trays already on the cart with a look of determination on his face.  
  
You sigh and concede defeat, with a smile still on your face you joke, not paying much mind to your surroundings. "I feel like you're like my new Best Friend now or some... thi... ng."  
  
"Best friend? Come again? Who's your best friend now?"  
  
Dr. Flug questions, suddenly standing at the mansion's dark front gates. The tone of his voice flat while the glare of his black goggles shines bright in the twilight colors of the setting sun, hiding his facial expression and making your blood run cold.  
  
Behind him, three Hat Bot Sentinels of standard colossal size stand, their single eye already glowing red, claws drawn and poised to shred to pieces anything in their way with the lift of one of Dr. Flug's single fingers. Several Hat drones hover in the sky above, circular saws out at full speed, the barrels of weapons peaking from underneath the brim looking for a target to disintegrate while their red light rotates in a state of alarm. You make the connection between the mechanical sounds you'd heard earlier while walking out the mansion to a Security System the Doctor himself told you about at some point during your short employment here.  
  
"Doctor, you made it." You say for a lack of a better response, having the inkling sensation that you've made a mistake along the way.  
  
"I specifically told you to wait for me for this, did I not?" He says, tone still flat and posture deceptively relaxed with both hands inside his lab coat pockets.  
  
Your mouth is suddenly dry. "I tried to contact you but you never gave me a coherent answer." You slowly stand up, your hand goes to fidget with the button of your neck. Still though, why all the security over a simple delivery?  
  
"But did you wait as I instructed you?" He asks again.  
  
"No." You admit.  
  
During the exchange the charming man you've acquainted remained silent, although upon closer inspection--he was starting to sweat profusely, despite this, he attempts to speak on your behalf.  
  
"Hey listen, Doc, no harm done. I apologize if I kept the pretty lady here more than needed but I just wanted to offer her a taste--" He did not get to finish his sentence as the Doctor suddenly whips out what you recognized as one of his latest ray gun models from his left lab pocket, pointing it directly to the young man's head. You're stunned watching the scene rapidly unfold before you.  
  
"Did not ask for your opinion, chum! My boss--" He shoots you a quick look, " _OUR_ boss has become irritated over the activation of the Security Alarm System linked to one of his latest investment acquisitions." He briefly motions with the gun to your direction. "At first we thought someone was foolish enough to try and rob us, but now we are relieved to know that it merely decided to walk outside disobeying direct orders to get acquainted with the delivery boy." His voice still full of frustration and irritation.  
  
The tracking device at your neck, you recall now, belatedly confirms what was merely implied before.  
  
"N-now, Doctor. please. I am sorry, I was only trying to help. I'll go back right now. No need for all this, I wasn't going to go anywhere..." You try to deescalate the situation and hold up your hands to placate his distress.  
  
"Yeah well, tell that to the boss! He nearly made me go insane and almost left me deaf out of one ear after the alarm went off!!" He continues, gun still pointed at the poor guy.  
  
"Okay, okay, Doctor. I'll go talk to him right now. I'm sorry! But let him go, he was only doing his job and nothing else. Just like you and me, okay?" You carefully step towards him and touch his arm to gently push the gun down. He thankfully obliges, but continues glaring daggers at the young man behind you.  
  
The delivery guy takes this opportunity to gather his belongings to leave, though to his credit he still manages to add one more box to the pile on your cart. You feel terrible and are about to verbalize an apology when Dr. Flug grabs your upper arm and jerks you toward one of the Sentinels standing by. The Bot promptly grabs your waist with its terrifying steel claws making you cringe, and slings you over the curve of its massive shoulder, your headgear drops to the floor with the rough movement before you could even try to catch it. The mechanical goon then immediately starts walking back to the mansion's entrance.  
  
From the new top view you are, at the very least, relieved to see the white delivery vehicle drive away unharmed.  
  
........................................  
  
The Sentinel brusquely throws you onto the entrance hall floor, landing with a grunt unto the unyielding hard surface of the carpeted floor.  
  
"What were you even thinking sitting halfway into the van already?!" That was an exaggeration, you were doing more leaning than sitting. "He could have easily pushed you inside the van and driven off." Nonetheless, the Doctor bellows as the Hat Bots move around him to take the food toward the direction of the kitchen.  
  
"That's preposterous, Flug! Why would he or anyone for that matter want to do that?!" You yell back using only his name for the first time since meeting him, while still on the floor using your elbows for support. But honestly, what the fuck.  
  
He smacks his forehead with one of his yellow clad hands, nearly tearing the paper bag over it. "You think the Organization doesn't have its fair share of rivals and opportunistic vultures looking for a chance to steal information or our technology to use against us? And what better way than to get a hold of someone from the inside to extort intel out of, huh?! So think about that before you go making googly eyes at strangers on the street." He finishes off, hands at his hips in clear exasperation.  
  
Oh. When he put it like that...  
  
You begin mumbling. "Look, Doctor, I'm s-"  
  
"Save it for the Chief, he's expecting you in the Drawing Room now. I gotta go untie Demencia." He says before throwing back at you your headpiece. You numbly thank him looking at the item you barely managed to catch after you let that piece of information sink in... Shit.  
  
He sighs then.  
  
"Sometimes, if you grovel hard enough--he'll let some things slide." He lightly comments as he starts heading back to the lab, you imagine. "Good-Bye though, in case I don't see you alive again." He says from somewhere behind you.  
  
And he's gone before you have a chance to say anything.  
  
......................................  
  
Fumbling with the pointy ears of the small attached pillbox hat, you walk through the long corridor leading to the Drawing Room, more like hall to be honest, where your boss awaits. You've swallowed through the lump in your throat three times now, the swift rhythmic sound of your heels slightly cushioned by the carpet below is amplified by the silence of the night. Light from the full moon begins to sip through the glass windows and looks lovely up on the evening sky above, but remains unmoved by your plight.  
  
You take a deep breath after coming to a stop in front of the grand double doors you polished that very morning considering that this would be the room where your boss would be receiving his guest tomorrow, knocking a few times before opening the door and stepping in.  
  
"G-good evening, sir..." You greet, closing the door behind you.  
  
The room is completely dark, illuminated only by a dim table lamp and the warm flames of the fireplace. The pale light of the moon provides more visibility but is confined to the edge of the immensely spacious room where the tall windows allow it entrance. Black Hat stands with his back to you inspecting one of his many massive paintings, hands at his back and posture tall and dark as ever, the space and shadows around him seem to mildly distort amidst the darkness with the flickering of the dancing flames from the fire.  
  
You stand frozen, waiting for some time to see what he'll say next with only the crackling of fire as background noise and the sound of crickets from outside.  
  
"Why are you not wearing your issued head piece?" He mildly comments, and you quickly go to put the hat and ears back on without questioning how he even knew that.  
  
"Now come closer, Assistant." He commands then, his back still turned. You immediately comply, as much as your senses advised you to do the exact opposite.  
  
"Sir?" You try. Your voice is almost a whisper while you approach, your heart speeding up.  
  
"I've always had my doubts letting 5.0.5 handle the up keep of the house, I believed I've mentioned it before, his clumsy paws could damage and have damaged irreplaceable items before." You're not sure where he's going with this. "Still, he has managed adequately for the most part, you gotta give the irksome thing at least that."  
  
He picks up a sand clock, with an elaborate twisting brass scorpion hugging the identical glass chambers. It shines even among the dim lighting of the room, and it had taken you quite some time to get it to do that as you could have easily broken the delicate thin aged glass had you polished it with more speed than care. It definitely gave off the ominous aura that it controlled more than the time dictated within the encased sand.  
  
"But this, it had been quite some time since I saw this trinket shine." He sets it down to then slide a long finger on the wall table with carved reptilian legs, the one you dusted a few hours prior. He looks at it, you think expecting his index finger to come off with filth, however, the leather of his dark glove remains immaculately clean. Just like the rest of the room is, just like you made sure it was.  
  
"And while I am as vile as they come I do take notice when a subordinate has the brains to execute a job well. The downside to that is that then I tend to set expectations on individuals, invariably there have been times when they let me down." He rubs together his forefinger and thumb in feign contemplation. "It doesn't happen very often though, since--well, let's just say I deal very, very poorly with disappointment when my expectations are not met." He finally turns to you then, and takes a fluid sinewy step towards you to assess the expression on your face, the fire's amber light reflecting from his left monocle.  
  
"So do tell me then, why you felt the need to leave the mansion when you had been clearly instructed otherwise?!" His one visible eye narrows, while the line of his mouth sneers in barely contained ire.  
  
"Your thoughtlessness inte **rrupted a b** u **S** i **N** e **SS TRANSACTION I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF!!!!"** He growls.  
  
The fire's flames rise in uproar alongside his voice, and the thick distortion in it makes your knees tremble as you close your eyes bracing for the onslaught, still catching the black of his one visible eye turn a searing red color before closing your own shut. The counter shadow cast by the fire silhouettes the tall form who seems all the more striking from up close, and your chest rises and falls rapidly while a sobbing sound escapes from the back of your throat.  
  
You begin to speak with a small shaky voice, your mouth feeling dry. "Sir, I d-did not mean to cause trouble... I just thought I'd help Dr. Flug since he seemed to be having a hard time with-"  
  
" _Help Dr. Flug?_ " A pair of hands take hold of your waist, their large and long length nearly encircle it exerting some force as he starts guiding you backwards to some place in the space behind you. You did not care where since you stopped breathing altogether, your eyes opening upon the contact of his hands. The peaks of his claws digging into the flesh of your torso, you truly believe he would rip you apart in two halves this time. Yet you are unable to look away from the sharpness of his fangs as they shine every time he speaks, perceiving a nice earthy aroma from him and you begin to believe that this is some kind of spell he casts over his victims before devouring them whole like a hungry wolf.  
  
"Listen here, you little fool, the Doctor is perfectly capable of foreseeing when he'll need assistance." He says in an icy low tone as he continues steering you.  
  
"Mr. Black Hat, sir..." Your voice a mere soft whimper, while the edge of your vision becomes blurry with tears. He gives another small squeeze to your waste which shuts you up in an instant putting your palms over the fine black material of his coat out of reflex, eliciting a wicked smirk from the obsidian being.  
  
You jump when you hit a soft surface with the back of your thighs, to only have him abruptly force your body back from where he was holding you. Emitting a small yelp of alarm when you fall over the arm of the furniture behind, the ears and hat over your head dishevel landing onto the ornate ottoman sofa that looked lovely earlier in the morning light, you push yourself back and away from him. A fruitless effort after you watch him in an unnatural sleek movement climb over the arm of the couch and over your form, the inhuman toxic sharp grin ever present on his face, while the long soft fabric of his coat smoothly drapes around engulfing you into the shadow of his frame.  
  
"I did not decide to keep you around to make decisions on anything..." He leans down as the claws of his fingers grow in size and length before viciously clutching your thighs pulling them apart and over his hips, a few seams of the short dress tear as the fabric rides up straining with the new position. You grasp at the material beneath you as your head hits the plush cushioned surface and still you do not blink even when tears stream down your temples and no cry for help comes from your throat.  
  
"Lesson Number 184: Unruly henchman who move independently without a direct order or approval, more often than not, end up bringing unnecessary problem's to their Master's doors. Rectify when appropriate." He salivates anticipating your pain.Your heart is hammering inside your chest watching in abject horror, entranced by the oncoming punishment. However, in the last moment while he pulls back his claw, you recall Dr. Flug's advise from earlier...  
  
And so the plea for mercy to your new dark deity begins.  
  
"M-My Lord Black Hat, please forgive me!" Your voice breaks and tears continue to flow down your face--you must look like a mess, yet he pauses taking a morbid interest in your groveling. "My Lord," You repeat again and the slit of the pupil of his eye widens in focus, "unless you found me useless under your employment, I-I would ne... never even think of leaving your side. Please, give-" you swallow, "grant me another chance so that I can be of use... p-ple... ase..." You implore sobbing with the last strength you have left.  
  
His expression is unreadable for a moment, surveying your wet desperate face in the light of the fireplace while everything quiets again except for the sounds from the night outside. Then a low snicker rumbles from his chest turning into hearty chuckle and soon into a full-on boisterous laugh which thwarts all other noise in the vast room with its gravelly undertones. Sitting back on his knees, the green of his sharp fangs are a display of tyrannical amusement while you look on perplexed and still unsure of your fate, at least you've stopped crying. Your parted thighs at his sides shake alongside the quacking movement of his laughter, at some point even slapping one of them, the stinging pain shocks you more than actually hurts you.  
  
His laughter subsides, suddenly crowding your space again, the grin still wide over his face, while the pleasant heavy scent returns in the close space between you. "Well, Assistant, you certainly managed to stir my core with all that begging. I had forgotten how... **_gratifying_** that felt."  
  
With a lift of his arm the shadows cast by his form on the floor distort, peeling from the ground to materialize into his characteristic onyx black cane which he uses to stand in one fluid motion. You look numbly at the vaulted ceiling, the part of your vision he previously occupied, trying to process what just took place.  
  
"Little fool, you actually thought I would end you." He snorts as if this had been just a big silly joke to him. "Not today, we have that prior arrangement pending for tomorrow, I'm gonna need you around so this will do for today." So you have been spared.  
  
You slowly begin to sit up, realizing he tore the sheer material of the thigh highs, revealing mean red streaks from where he grasped at you. Your head accessories fell to the ground at some point, while some of the dress' seams opened showing not only your bruised skin but also the straps of the garter-belt. You wipe at your nose and cheeks with your wrists careful not to ruin the half-scoop gloves too, sniffling a little and composing yourself as best as you could.  
  
"Your only duty is to assist in what is asked of you. Nothing less and nothing more, don't forget that." He warns from a grand high backed couch from the another side of the room, closer to the fireplace.  
  
"Yes, sir." You croak from where you sit, still trying to fix your appearance.  
  
"Retreat, I need you ready in the morning for when this pest shows up." He shoos you away for the night, crossing his legs on the couch, hands leaning over the cane.  
  
"Thank you, sir." He sneers, seemingly done with you for the moment. Excusing yourself you stumble out of the room, glad to have all your limbs intact for the most part and to live to see another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry, it took way too long to get this chapter out. I've was working on it for a while but personal stuff always comes up. Nonetheless, here it is.
> 
> Also I was thinking of putting a playlist together as companion material for this, though not to worry, they songs are not gonna be included IN here, except for maybe like ONE--at the fic's very end and it will not be in the playlist anyway because i want the ending to be extra 'special' lol.
> 
> I also have some sketches and feel like creating a tumblr account for character designs and illustrations, but I also don't know if you guys would be into that, since I know sometimes having a visual representation of what you pictured in your mind tends to spoil the pot for most, so idk...maybe if there's any interest in it.
> 
> You guys let me know!  
> And don't forget to comment, it keeps me motivated--I have already have an outline of how all this shit is going to go down!


	7. Working Relationships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hospitality is key!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll never guess who shows up on this one!

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Dawn signaled the beginning of your day, much earlier than usual, despite the restless night of sleep after Black Hat's little 'reprimand'._  
  
_Your dreams were filled with images of deathly poison green fangs and slit pupil eyes that jolted you awake for every hour you managed to close your eyes. Sleeping wasn't normally a problem contrary to what one might expect living in the Black Hat Manor, since the day's work left you too exhausted to even think and the soft plush bed welcomed your tired body at the end of each passing day. However, the nightmares on top of the anxiety of the incoming visitor made for a perfect concoction to keep you awake for most of the night. And then when you thought you'd finally conceived sleep, the alarm from your phone wrenched you away from the land of dreams. Your body already tensing again. This time you don't bother to dress up before heading downstairs, figuring you'll come back up after getting things going in the kitchen._  
  
_Still in your pajama shorts ensemble and after tying your hair in a bun, you head towards the kitchen to prepare coffee and to turn on the various ovens for the food that was delivered yesterday... yesterday... shaking off the memory of the day prior, you focus instead on the incredibly ironic observation that although Dr. Flug's lab is full of advanced tech and equipment, the rest of the Manor retains a lot of archaic components and appliances, this is surely due to Mr. Black Hat's preferences._  
  
_The hallways are cold and dark at that hour of the morning, so you try to make as little noise as possible on your way to the kitchen not wanting to disturb the silence of the early morning even with your soft bootie slippers. Passing by 5.0.5's slumbering form on his bear bed and pleasantly surprised to find him there at all, you stop to gently pet his head. It had been some time since you saw him last and are also relieved to see that there's no permanent damage to his big soft body after you carefully examine him, the Doctor was right despite your doubts. Then a mischievous urge takes over when you are presented with the soft curve of 5.0.5.'s belly as he shifts on his bed; unable to resist you rub his furry belly in furious circles and giggle as he starts kicking his left paw in a delightful reflex with a blissful look on his sleeping face._  
  
_You go on like this for a few moments until the sound of a distant violin stops your shenanigans and wonder who could be playing at this ungodly hour of the morning. It is a haunting tune coming from one of the many dark corridors within the mansion's bowels, it is composed of dark low undertones that suddenly twist in acute unsuspecting parts of the piece, you almost go to follow the sound when you feel a soft paw grab hold of your wrist. It's 5.0.5. wide awake now, attentively looking up at you from his place on the bed, he shakes his head in warning and you somehow understand what he is trying to convey as a shiver runs down your spine finally discerning where the music is coming from: Black Hat's study._  
  
_"Good Bear." You pet him some more. "I'm gonna get breakfast started, wanna come?" He nods enthusiastically and follows you down the stairs to the kitchen below._  
  
_Dr. Flug wonders in half an hour later, looking for a bite and some coffee. He stops mid step when he sees you standing there, apron on while taking out from the walk-in fridge one of the massive aluminum trays delivered the day before. 5.0.5. is busy at the stove top making his delicious honey pancakes he insisted on preparing and is happy to see his 'dad' so early in the morning. The young genius probably pulled an all-nighter again judging by the tired look visible underneath his tinted goggles._  
  
_"Well, color me surprised. It seems you are not as helpless as I thought." He says, now walking over to refill his mug from the coffee maker._  
  
_"And good morning to you too, Doctor." You blandly greet setting the tray down onto the black marble island counter top. He only shrugs and goes to sit on one of the tall stools._  
  
_"I got lucky." You admit in a conversational tone. "Mr. Black Hat wanted me to be around to attend to his guest." Blue light from the early morning sky comes through the many windows lining the right wall of the kitchen._  
  
_"And I also begged for forgiveness." You add, and are even less happy to admit this as you lean on the counter, one hand at your hip pretending nonchalance but truthfully expecting more berating from the Doctor as well._  
  
_But he only chuckles a little bringing the straw from his mug to his mouth under the paper bag he religiously wears. "Don't count on that to work on him all the time. You really did just get lucky."_  
  
_"I know, Doctor..." You are well aware of how dreadfully narrow your escape from a swift end was, so you change the subject instead. "Say, have you actually met this client before?"_  
  
_"Have I?! Oh boy, now that's another idiot with no sense of self-preservation who constantly walks the thin line of foe and friend to the Organization, I suppose that's why the boss tolerates him." 5.0.5. serves the first batch of pancakes to the doctor while he continues. "Just try to keep yourself busy and let the Boss handle him. I will be there as well in case he needs me." That makes you feel a bit relieved._  
  
_"Where's Demencia?" You inquire out of cautious curiosity._  
  
_"Don't know, sleeping probably. She spent the whole night at the lab with me, being a pest as usual." Good, that's one less thing to worry about._  
  
_"Well. I guess I better get started..." You place the trays inside ovens and grab a quick bite before heading upstairs again to shower and get ready. You make an effort to look extra nice today to cover up your exhaustion if for nothing else._  
  
.....................................................  
  
A golden mothership of awesome size hovers at a considerable distance above the mansion at 12 o'clock sharp in the afternoon. Its weight evenly distributed across the ship's flat disc-like proportions, while one long protruding and narrow length at the back of the flying machine alludes to a tail of sorts. The expanse of the ostentatious golden metal mirrors the Mansion's landscape and its surroundings, as well as the bright sun above in a cloudless blue sky through a distorted reflection. Two large slanted windows of the same red color you remember seeing on the mysterious man's eyewear from before seem to provide visibility for the occupants inside but do not do the same for those looking in from the exterior. The air around the flying machinery is blown in a light tempest, lifting debris and dust in its wake and all you can do is use your hands to shield yourself from the air. Dr. Flug is somewhere next to you, also having difficulty keeping the bag over his head in place as he mumbles expletives in irritation.  
  
Hearing and reading about villains on the news made them so far removed from your reality before coming to live in the Manor, and even now-after browsing over their names on weapon orders and assisting them over the phone-did not do justice to the terrifying novelty of being in the actual presence of another agent of calamity, as if your own boss was not intimidating enough. And why had you expected this person to arrive like a normal decent human and ring the doorbell at the front gates to begin with?  
  
Your Boss, however, does not seem affected by any of this as he stands tall and firm with hands at his back right outside the Manor's door, his back to you both and although you cannot see his face you can perceive an air of unimpressed expectation and impatience as his client makes a show of his arrival.  
  
A square hatch on the underbelly of the ship opens slowly rolling out a set of downward metal stairs. Upon touching the dead grey concrete, from within the shadows of the ship emerges a pair of knee high golden boots belonging to the form of an imposing man, clad in full villain regalia if you ever saw one, complete with a flaring red cape. Behind him, four armored guards follow, eerily stepping in practiced military unison, their faces covered in a yellow golden helmet similar to the one their leader wears.  
  
The man confidently struts out and down the stairs. He is as tall as your own boss and also prefers to wear mostly black as the main component of his outfit. However, his is a bodysuit of what looks like military grade dark fabric which closely adheres to the slender muscle of his thighs, waist and broad chest. Golden yellow metal gloves cover his forearms and hands with razor sharp fins sticking out at each forearm. Each thigh has a small strapped supply holster of the same yellow color as the boots and gloves, while a fitted belt of the same hue, no doubt a gadget belt, embraces his narrow waist. A wide upside-down triangular metal plate covers the man's chest emphasizing his masculine figure, the shoulder pads are an extension of the chest piece point in an upward fashion and are divided in back and front plates coming together in a straight bent line atop the shoulders. The curvature at the forefront of his helmet is consistent with the rest of the armor, as sharp peaks at the top of the malefactor's face piece gives form to the marine animal it is fashioned after. Aside from the cape attached to the uniform by two yellow small plates, the other crimson color found on the uniform was a pair of red circular lenses serving as windows to the man's viscous dark eyes.     
  
"Well, hello there! How has my favorite toy maker been?!" Serrated piranha-like fangs are displayed in sly smile as he extends his hand forward.  
  
His voice drips with malicious intent under the seemingly friendly greeting, it is a mixture of exuberance and conniving experience--but a man's clever voice nonetheless. You hear Dr. Flug mumble a quick 'told you' in your direction while you still look on with pensive interest.  
  
"Stingray." Your boss replies as a way of greeting and takes hold of his client razor sharp gloved hand. "I am quite amazed to see you alive and well still."  
  
"Ha! You'll be pleased to hear that my army's numbers have doubled since our last rendezvous!" Mr. Stingray boasts, hands at his hips while his cape flies around him in the strong wind. "I even got you a little gift to thank you for taking the time to see me." He turns back to the still hovering ship. "Bring it out, boys!"  
  
Another pair of uniformed men come out, carrying a wooden crate adorned and sealed with several warning labels over it.

"You shouldn't have." Your boss says in a mock of gratefulness. "But let's take our conversation inside, my eye is drying from standing outside in the wind of your flying machine of overcompensation."  
  
Mr. Stingray sensibly laughs off the mild insult as both of them walk past exchanging pleasantries. "All this time gone by and here you are, the same stiff as always."  
  
The massive ship folds and retracts the bridge of stairs to slowly steer away in a final gust of wind. The doors are then closed by two Sentinel Hatbots Dr. Flug took the liberty of having on stand-by mode near by, 'just in case'--he said (and then chuckled as if he had told a hilarious joke), you remained silent and confused at the time but now you understood where he was coming from. And it seems you were not the only weary party as two of Mr. Stingray's men went to stand guard at the door once inside, one guard at each pillar framing the entrance, while the remaining trailed behind your respective bosses.   
  
"And there he is--the only Doctor I'll ever be happy to see!" This time, the attention was directed at Dr. Flug, who makes a commendable effort at returning a firm hand shake.  
  
"Li-likewise, Lord Stingray, good to see you doing well..." Dr. Flug politely greets. His back a little straighter than the usual slouch-until Black Hat speaks again. "Doctor, take Stingray's gift somewhere... safe, while I take our guest to the Drawing Room." He instructs.  
  
"Yes, boss!" The Doctor promptly replies. Then your boss turns to you and you immediately perk up to fill in your role as Dr. Flug has the bots take the crate leading them away in the direction of the lab.  
  
"I'll bring out the refreshments shortly, Sir!" You chirp and regret it almost instantly.  
  
"And who do we have here?! Black Hat, you old dog--you finally caved in and got yourself a sweet little plaything!" You were hoping your presence would go overlooked as simply some subordinate helping around the Manor, but no such luck you lament as 'Lord' Stingray eagerly leers your way, making you squirm under his gaze.  
  
"Don't test my patience, Stingray, she is just a lowly assistant I hired recently." Your boss replies in annoyance, yet this seems to satisfy the other villain for now as he heeds the warning and is lead away through one of the dark corridors of the Mansion. You give a sigh of relief, despite the slight of being called a 'lowly assistant'--you still have some pride left after all...  
  
So just to spite your boss and his new 'No Making Friends' policy you turn to the men guarding the door. "So are you guys gonna want something to eat too or what?"  
  
They look at each other in mild surprise for brief moment and then to you followed by a single curt nod of welcomed hospitality.  
  
........................................................................

  
"So there I am! A single guy against a dozen of them--in the middle of the hot as devil's ass jungle, but still ready to..."  
  
By the time you arrive, Lord Stingray is sitting on the plush ottoman sofa, occupying a good portion of it with the length of his spread thighs as he leans forward enthusiastically gesticulating with both arms his story. While your boss listens across from him, a hand resting on his cane and the other over the leather chesterfield's armrest. The remaining guards have posted themselves at the entrance of the room and are doing a marvelous job at blending in with the hatted suits of armors lining the walls.  
  
You push the cart in as quietly as you can, hoping to avoid your superiors' attention while you busy yourself with setting up, quietly wrestling your nerves and trying to focus amidst the new foreign situation.  
  
Lord Stingray goes on "... That's when I say to him, 'Listen buddy, nothing personal. A ruler's gotta do what a ruler's gotta do to keep the kingdom runnin'!' and then I toss him to join his compatriots into the blazing building below. The final explosives we planted made the whole base go BOOM!! Some of my men even had the chance to take pictures!"  
  
"MH HA HA HA HA!! You should have sent me a postcard!" That's your Boss' entertained voice now.  
  
You really wish you had not heard any part of the conversation. "Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen, but wh-what would you like to drink...?" You offer before they launch into another gruesome account of their exploits.  
  
"Straight whiskey for me, doll." Lord Stingray requests crossing his arms, leaning back onto the sofa now, watching you with intent.  
  
"M-my Lord, and you?" You ask, avoiding your guest's eyes focusing on your boss' instead. "A glass of Jeroboam of Château for now." He simply says.

"Right away, Sir." You nod and get to work,  
  
"From where did you pick up this charming little number, if I may ask? The Lizard Girl seemed a little too green and too off her rockers to have a good time. Now _this_! _This_ is more like it if you ask me!" Lord Stingray inquires once more and it dawns on you he is referring to you.  
  
"I do not 'pick up' things like some sort of peasant." Your Boss spats. " _She_ came to _me_." You hear your boss say with an underlying level of smugness in his voice, even if that's not what actually happened. Not exactly.  
  
"Assistant! Properly introduce yourself, I'm afraid he won't stop pestering me until his curiosity is quelled." You startle a little at his command--your back still to them, you do a deep intake of air and look to the heavens for help before turning around with what has become your go-to weapon in uncomfortable social situations; a winning professional smile.  
  
The drinks neatly set over a glossy silver tray, you make your way back to the lounging men in the sitting area. "W-well, Lord Stingray, there isn't much to say really. I just happened to see an ad on a job listening website and well, once here and in the presence of such prominent figure such as Lord Black Hat, I really had no choice but to st-give it a try! I've no experience in villainy prior to working here, but would you believe? Lord Black Hat was gracious enough to still want me to work for his Organization, so here I am!" You finish with a little shrug, still smiling while offering them their drinks from the tray.  
  
"Ah, spoken like a true captive turned terrorized-lackey." You freeze for a moment, not sure whether to laugh at his comment. The keen wit and perception of the man leaning back on the sofa, whiskey in hand and leg resting over his knee renders you silent instead. "Rare as they are, I've had quite a few of those among my ranks, my friend." He's directing himself to your Boss now. "Never ends well for them. Eventually most tend to slip and stupidly try to plot against me at a lame attempt to freedom--though I do get the appeal of keeping them if only for the thrill of fearful reverence only they can provide!" Lord Stingray finishes with a malicious grin of countless sharp incisors.  
  
"Indoctrination certainly is a possibility--" You whip around in alarm to look at Mr. Black Hat now, "Though I prefer to keep my closest employees in all their senses, I trust they remain loyal to me or face the consequences." He sips in complacency from the wine glass while the caped visitor chuckles amused by the response before turning to you once more.  
  
"Well, babe," Lord Stingray continues, "If you ever tire of the good ol' Organization, give me a call--I could always use another..." He brings his whiskey glass down to his groin, adjusting the position of his thighs back to a wide spread. "... _**Assistant**_.  My fiancee is not the jealous type."  
  
Did-did he just...? No, he did not.  
  
"I am sorry, Lord Stingray, I apologize if I'm misreading the situation but I think you are sorely misunderstanding the nature of my job. My duties here are strictly professional and I've never been asked once to conduct myself otherwise. so I would appreciate it if you refrained from implying such as you are not only doing a disservice to me, but to my Employer as well--whom I don't even think feels the need to indulge in such _common_ matters." Your face is red with despondency by the time you finish speaking and know full well in the back of your mind that you are way out of line, but still you went on like a fool anyway.  
  
However, both men burst into a thundering guffaw even as you stand there fully expecting some sort of punishment for speaking like that to one of Lord Black Hat's guests. Instead they go on like that for awhile. Your boss is the first to speak after the hysterics.  
  
"So there's your answer, Stingray! Never let it be said that Black Hat doesn't treat his employees well!" You are at a loss for a reaction, but recognize when you are being made fun; your cheeks are even redder with a mixture of embarrassment and exasperation directed, surprisingly, at your own Employer.  
  
Lord Stingray chortles on. "You-you got yourself a little gem there, all coy only to turn into a little spitfire to defend her and her boss' honor. That's rich!" You are gripping the tray you are holding so hard that you are sure your fingers turned white under the black gloves you wear.  
  
"I'll bring the refreshments out." You limit yourself to say turning around to work on the appetizers before you actually hit both of them over the head with the silver tray.  
  
Dr. Flug finally enters the room and you are yet again eternally grateful for his presence to at last have someone else introduce other topics of conversation. Your Boss orders you to play a record in the priceless vintage phonograph located at a corner of the room. You go for a smooth jazz collector's edition record, handling it with the utmost care since it and the phonograph would probably cost a fortune if they were to get damaged. The music resonated in the spacious room of tall ceilings and did wonders to help you relax somewhat during the time you served the other occupants and relieved to finally have the spotlight off of you while doing your best at not listening when their conversations takes a turn for the gruesome.  
  
The young Doctor was in the middle of explaining the importance of resource management maintaining the guest's attention, when Black Hat turns your way to beckon you closer with a wave of his hand. "Start serving dinner, I want to see what his proposal is this time around." He says in a low raspy tone and you nod promptly heeding his command.  
  
5.0.5. already had everything arranged and cooked in the kitchen, you only had to place the items in the cart and return. He asked if you needed any help, but immediately declined fearing for his safety in the presence of the guest even if this was probably not the first time the Manor received and entertained other criminals before. And even if truth be told, you were starting to feel this little visit take a toll on you.  
  
The thai coconut shrimp soup looks and smells delicious as you serve it on the immaculate porcelain tableware emblazoned with the Black Hat Organization's simple but distinct emblem. Dinner is served on a long trestle-base dining table lined with upholstered tufted chairs of soft grey fabric.The silverware shines among the low lightning of the crystal chandelier above making you feel a little accomplished considering the state you found them in. Small victories, you think. Your boss, sits at the head of the dark solid wood table, Dr. Flug is at his right while Stingray has been sat to the left, a lengthy space separates them from one another.  
  
The music still softly plays in the background and you've just served the main dinner entree when Lord Stingray finally decides to address the true reason for his visit.  
  
"Now, I am sure you know why I am here, my esteemed host. The last little toy you put out on the market a few days ago debuting your hot new Assistant there,  gave everyone a run for their money! It was like a second Christmas for villains and the worst day in recent history for the authorities!" He smiles, and you feel more than see your boss' wicked grin make its appearance while Dr. Flug sits up a bit straighter, chest swelling with pride. "So I ask once more, what can I or my army possibly offer in order to seal a deal of exclusivity for the one and only Black Hat Organization?"  
  
Your employer chuckles darkly from behind clasped hands, leaning over the table. "My esteemed guest, I fear your lifetime will be nowhere near enough to collect the amount of souls, limbs, money and other material goods I require to make this worth my time." He says already dismissing the proposal as if it were but only a quaint little offer. Which by all accounts and measures--it truly was.  
  
"But of course, I do not mean to offend! However, I do want to let you in on a little plan I have in the back burner that I'm about to set into motion." Lord Stingray then slyly leans in closer to confide. "It's about a flourishing nation that has nearly endless resources and access to precious metal elements, which my Intel team tells me, possess most unusual power generating properties..." This makes Dr. Flug pause for a moment as Lord Stingray leans back to then add. "Their population has also exponentially increased in the last decade."  
  
"And what exactly are you planning on doing in regards to this nation, might I ask?" Dr. Flug inquires this time from his side of the table as he continues to cut a piece of Jamon Iberico before bringing it to his mouth under the bag.  
  
You start feeling at edge in fear of the reply as your hands begin to sweat while you handle the cutlery.  
  
"CONQUEST IS MY END GAME!" Stingray declares slamming his fist on the table rattling its contents and making you drop a set of spoons amidst his outburst. "Is that ever not one of us after all?!" He continues with gusto. "But there is only one small obstacle on my way: Their ministry of defense controls a automatons and weapons powered by the very same metallic element which I am trying to get my hands on. And so far the only technology that I presume formidable enough to go against them is Black Hat's very own assortment of mayhem and destruction!" He is almost standing up by now while your Boss looks on fairly entertained at this point.  
  
You hurry to get dessert started to get things moving along, you have a bad feeling about this.  
  
"How very kind of you to say, Lord Stingray, but if I am to consider this, then am I to understand that you are offering a portion of this country's reapings as payment in exchange for exclusive use of our services?" Your Boss raises his wine glass in your direction and you hurry to obey the wordless request to refill his glass.  
  
"That is exactly the plan, Black Hat, this will be my little investment if you will!" The man sits down again on the chair, finally content to have laid out his cards on the table.  
  
You walk around them, quietly collecting their plates, the jazz orchestra music from the record suddenly plays a lively number in the background and your Boss speaks once again. "That all sounds very tempting for a change. Still though, if you're working on a tight schedule and as good as the Organization is manufacturing weapons--I do not believe we can immediately deliver any products any time soon--as you see, we have already started on another project. A preview, to return the favor; it is a weaponized satellite of sorts." So that's what that was, you recall seeing the Doctor revising a set of blue prints earlier. "And I would hate to divert our resources and my doctor's time from our current ambitious project. Strike when the iron is hot and all that, I'm sure you understand."  
  
Lord Stingray's crosses his arms with displeasure clear on his face you observe, and are almost too nervous to place the dessert in front of him.  
  
"Oh really? I find it hard to believe that a modified satellite could have bigger pay out than an entire nation's precious and unusual metals..." He repeats again pointedly looking at Dr. Flug, who takes the bait and makes a light suggestion. "Boss, perhaps we should reconsider. We may be able to study and enhance our own technologies in turn."  
  
Your boss remains quiet for a moment, the ambient is tense as ever while you move around the men trying your best to be as inconspicuous as possible.  
  
"Tell you what, Stingray," Your Boss begins as you are done setting the last haute chocolate pastry onto the table and are about to retire back to the kitchen. "If my Assistant - whom you seem to be so fond of - is able to come up with a decent solution to our little predicament right here and now, then you've got yourself a deal!" He speaks in daring derisive bravado as it becomes clear he is only toying with his guest now, everyone in the room at the mercy of his devilish game--including you. The other villain has at least the dignity to look affronted for a moment, to then turn his eyes on you.

Ah, so that's what that ominous feeling was. "But, Sir, I-"  
  
He silences any protests you were about to make before you have a chance. "Now then, Ms. Assistant, show us you got more than a pretty face between those quaint little ears of yours and tell us what _can_ the Organization offer Mr. Stingray in exchange for his very handsome prospective reward?"  
  
All sets of eyes pin you in place. "My Lord, I-I," You plead again, your voice begins to shake while your knees go numb with weakness. The cacophony of hectic jazz music seems to grow even louder and only jumbles up your mind even more as you struggle to form coherent thought, your face grows warmer by the second. You have half a mind to run out of the room, but recall the night prior.  
  
"Come now, while they're still young." Your Boss hustles you along, swirling the wine in his glass, a malicious smile splitting his face. Dr. Flug's facial expression is indecipherable behind his dark goggles, merely tapping his index finger on the table following the fast rhythm of the song. Lord Stingray looks on with expectancy and a mild threatening air, waiting for your reply. 

Swallowing through the lump formed in your throat, your brain struggles in panicked haste to find a solution while a lively jazz crescendo is reached in the song.  
  
"Yes, we-we d-do have something to offer Lord Stingray, Sir..."  
  
"Oh?" Stingray's glare turns into a look of intrigue, while your employer raises an eyebrow but lets you continue.  
  
"The-the Library. Has a long list of weapons inventory the Organization has not sssoh--" You catch yourself, better re-thinking what you are about to say next, "put out on the Market in deca- I-I mean - as of yet, yes!" Clearing your throat, you meaningfully look to your Boss and Dr. Flug, hoping they soon catch on to what you're trying to say. "...er, it is a _**back**_ log." Dr. Flug is the first to decipher your proposal as both eyebrows raise in realization. Still you go on, now for your Black Hat's sake as he narrows his eyes at you. "... of weaponry that only needs... um, ah-a few finishing touches! Before they could be shipped out agaihnnss-soon as possible! A-and uhm--"  
  
"Say no more!" Your Employer finally catching on to your little theatrics deciding to take it from there. "But of course, of course! How could we have forgotten about that. You must excuse us, valued client, but we've been so busy with the success of our latest product that we have regretfully forgotten about our _other_ aspiring inventory!" Serrated sharp teeth display a mean confident smile. 

The hectic music goes on.  
  
"We do not even know how long the list is!" Dr. Flug chips in.  
  
"If that's the case, then there is nothing further to discuss!" The other villain sits straighter, palms flat on the table's surface, a smug look plastered over his face and clearly sold over the suggestion. "It's a deal, where do I sign?!" 

The record's musical number finally comes to a stop.  
  
"Mh-hah hahahaha!" Your boss laughs in self-satisfied diversion before looking your way. "Bring out the Opus X cigars." And then to his guest. "Nothing like a good smoke while we go over details."  
  
"Yes, Sir." You immediately say and scramble out of the room as fast as your feet will carry you.  
  
................................................................

  
You collapse onto one of the kitchen's tall stools, bent over and heaving gulps of air in exhaustion as your body feels light and heavy at the same time.  
  
You just signed an entire country's death warrant.

One hand over the cold kitchen island marble for support and the other over your chest, feeling your heart about to burst out of your rib cage. Your hair covering the glassy look of your eyes. You barely kept it together when you delivered the hefty wooden box containing the luxury cigars.  
  
"Brwhh!" 5.0.5. is at your side within seconds, his furry paw rubbing circles at your back in concern. "Brh whro?"  
  
You look up and see his big black eyes trying to figure out what could possibly be wrong with you and then you lose it. "This... this place is going to kill me. _He_ is going to kill me!" You sob and bury your face into his gentle hug. "I'm tired!" Your voice now muffled by the warm fur. "I'm so tired...and-and I just..."

He pats your head in a comforting gesture. "Wrhh..."

You stay like that for a while before 5.0.5. releases you and tells you with his paws to stay seated and then goes to prepare some tea for you, your hands trembling still. Finally, mildly calmer, you take a moment to look outside the kitchen's fogged windows and realize it's already evening.

"How do you do it, 5.0.5? I would have surely ran away by now." 5.0.5. stops what he's doing and looks at you with a fear in his eyes, furtively shaking his head. "No, of course not! I wouldn't run away--I have contract! But you, surely you had the opportunity to leave all this behind. You don't belong here."

As answer, he only points to the drawings taped onto one of the large fridge's doors, the ones with Dr. Flug on it and what appears to be a smaller baby version of 5.0.5. They're hugging and are encircled by a big red heart drawn with colorful crayons. There's another one similar to that one, but with Demencia instead, both holding hands and skipping through a flower field. There's even one with a fictitious Black Hat carrying 5.0.5. on his shoulders with a bunch of colorful balloons as backdrop--Mr. Black Hat must not visit the kitchen very often, you guess, otherwise he would have already ripped the drawings off the fridge and burnt them inside the stone oven at the back of the room.

"Okay, I get it..." They're his family and all he knows, of course he cannot even fathom the idea of simply taking off one day.

He sets the cup of lemongrass tea in front of you, steam coming out and emitting a pleasant soothing aroma - reminding you of your own home. Thanking him, he nods happily and goes to grab his own cup with a plate of cookies to then sit next to you. You are content with the companionable silence, sipping your tea and with only the crunching sound of 5.0.5. eating the cookies.

"Rhuhh." He waves his chunky paw in front of your face, grabbing your attention. You turn to look at him, smiling already to see what else could this creature be trying to tell you. 5.0.5. points to you, then to himself, then to the drawings on the fridge and proceeds to make a hugging pantomime. "Bh-whhurh!!"

A family. 

Oh.

What a flattering thought you think and wish you could return the sentiment. "You are an angel." Instead you scratch the back of his ears in return.

"Assistant, your presence is required!" Nearly jumping out of seat, you end up spilling some tea onto the counter, startled by the sudden order from the Anubis ears. 5.0.5. nearly chokes on a chunk of his cookie as well.

...............................................

You hurry to the Entrance Hall to find your superiors and Lord Stingray shaking hands, his men at the ready to march off after their leader.

"Flug will forward you the proper paperwork as soon as possible. So be on the look out for-ah and there she is." Your Employer heeds you come closer when you are within sight, having had time to recover you brace yourself for whatever other outlandish request comes next. "Stingray will be your new boss starting today."

This time you think you might actually flee as you whip your head around to make sure you heard that right. Both overlords then burst out in laughter once again.

 "-Aha ha ha! Just pulling your leg, Ms. Assistant. You make the best faces when you're scared - you're a treasure!" Lord Stingray comments mid chuckle once the laughter subsides.

"Is-is this the reason why you called me, Sir?"

"No. Our costumer wanted to bid you farewell personally. You managed to impress someone, at least." You feel your Boss place his hand on your back as he gently steps with you toward his departing guest.

The man in golden armor smiles then and makes a show of actually bowing to you  "It's been a pleasure meeting such a resourceful young lady." He takes your left hand, the one that's not busy fidgeting with the button of the collar of your dress, and kisses it... and kisses it... and continues to kiss it until Black Hat interjects yanking your hand away from the other man. "Enough with the disgusting display. Now hurry before I regret ever giving you the time of day!"

Lord Stingray snickers for a moment in clear provocation. "Continue to serve your Master well. Or don't. Here's my card."

He whips out a business card of his own from one of his metal vambraces and slips it in your cleavage, you have no chance to react.

"Don't be so rough on the lass, ey Black Hat?" He advises, the gall of this man. "Leave some for the rest of us."

He gives one last quick goodbye to Dr. Flug and also another business card, a salute to your boss before stalking away to the ship hovering outside, crimson cape flaring in the harsh wind created by the flying machine. His men march after him in the same uniform fashion in which they arrived, however, the last two guards posted at the entrance turn around for a brief moment to wave goodbye, you return the wave with a quick 'Bye, Bob. Bye, Martin!' but stop when your Employer shoots you a threatening glare. 

"He's an ambitious little worm, at the very least, though the imbecile will probably get himself killed one day or worse-captured and put in a maximum security jail for all his imprudent idiocies " Your Boss comments to no one in particular as the ship flies away in the distant night sky. 

"Now, you two, fork over those cards!"

  
.................................................................................................

 

A loud crashing sounds is heard throughout the Mansion as Demencia comes barreling down the staircase. Mace and electric guitar in hand - clearly ready to rumble, her hair a matted mess from where you can see miscellaneous objects sticking out every which way. Drool marks around her face, her clothes a wrinkled mess, without mentioning the strong coppery odor coming off her once she is close enough to smell.

"What did I miss?!"

"Demencia, you stink! I told to shower before even thinking of coming out of your room!" The Doctor scolds while holding his nose over the paperbag on his head and fanning the air around his face in distaste. You only step back a few paces putting more distance in between.

"As if, nerd!" She yells, dropping her stuff to the floor and ready to pounce on the young Doctor - he only glares at her.

"What did you miss, you ask?" Your Boss momentarily distracts her. "EVERYTHING! And probably for the best. You're a mess!" He scolds, making her recoil as if struck.

"But-"

"But nothing!" Mr. Black Hat brings down his cane, displeasure clear on his face. "Flug!" He calls, still directing an admonishing look at Demencia.

"Yessir!" He stands at attention.

"Bathe this filthy thing before she stinks up the entire Manor."

As soon as those words come out of his mouth, Demencia books it out of there, crawling up the walls in an inhuman speed-guitar and weapons abandoned on the entrance floor, fallen items from her electric green hair leaving a trail behind. Oh Boy.

"Have fun." Is all your Boss says as he disintegrates into a dark shadow disappearing in one fluid motion. You stand there a little disturbed by the sight before you also attempt a getaway to avoid getting roped into helping when-

"I think you can handle this one." Aw crap. You are really not feeling up to this now and are about to complain, but the Doctor goes on. 

"Here. Take this." He offers you a small round device with a green blinking light and a little cartoony black lizard printed on its center. "Press this button and throw it at her once you have her close. Beats using the snake catcher stick."

"You gotta be kidding me, Doctor! I haven't even finished cleaning after our guest and now I have to go on a hunt to get Demencia to shower?!"

"That's the nature of the beast." He says putting his hands inside his labcoat pockets."Hey, I would gladly help you but I gotta go take apart Stingray's 'good will' gift to make sure it's not a bomb or a spy bot. Besides, you can get my 5.0.5. to help you clean up while you do that. Her bathroom is right next to her door on the second floor, third hallway to your left."

You sigh in defeat.

"Have fun!" 

Biting your tongue refraining from cussing at the scientist, you choose to begrudgingly snatch the device instead and start looking for Demencia. It is 9:45 PM, according to the grandfather clock located at the entrance sitting area. You stop by the kitchen, notifying 5.0.5. of your new task and to grab a container to gather all the stuff she leaves on the floor, because of this It is surprisingly not that difficult to track her down, even if she does lead you to other parts of the Mansion you've never been to before. You wonder how long has this structure been on this land and continue to be amazed by its sheer interior size as you pass obscure room after room with the occasional hallway. Surely an intruder could easily be inside and it would be days-months even before any of its residents would be none the wiser. Dr. Flug's security system makes more sense now. 

You bend down to pick up the third butterfly knife off the floor when you hear a thud to your right. It leads to a dark hall from which you cannot make out any of its contents even as you squint in the dim light. You think you hear a faint shifting sound coming from there and have the distinct feeling of being watched from within the darkness.

"Hello? Is someone there..." Voice quaking a little, you've no doubt this place could also be haunted.

No answer.

"Demencia, is that you? C'mon on out, I want to go to bed--I've had enough surprises for one day and Mr. Black Hat is not very happy with you right now, and I don't want him to be unhappy at the Doctor either." This was Dr. Flug's job after all, you mutter.

Still nothing, though you think you might be able to hear faint breathing coming from inside the room. It must be her then. You are about to take a step toward the room, when you feel someone's weight slam on your back, a victory cry and a pair of hands in mismatched punk rock accessories grab you from behind in a headlock. You are thrown off balance due to the height of your heels and the girl hanging off of you. Both of you tumble to the floor, spilling the container's contents in a mess of limbs and long green hair.

"My honey would never be mad at me!! You dumb maid in heels!" She shrieks from above you as you try to pry her off.

 "Demencia, stop!!" You try. "This is ridiculous! You're supposed to be a big girl-" You use your entire body to dislodge her from your waist, even as her iron grip on your hair and clothes remains. "-not a child!!"

Your uniform rides up, seams tearing - what a sight you must make right now

"Do you think our Boss likes girls that act like babies because they don't want to shower, huh?!"

"He will like me no matter what!" And with that she bites your arm with her sharp canines, immediately drawing blood.

The needle-like pain takes you by surprise making you see white for a second and has you gasping for air. You start looking around to see what you could use to defend yourself; there are some daggers and knives on the floor that fell out of the container, but you choose to go for a big plastic bottle of hot sauce you picked up earlier. The thudding sound it makes as it connects with her head is more satisfying than what you'd like to admit.

"Ow..." She finally lets go and looks dazed for a moment, rubbing at the side of her head.

You take this opportunity to scramble away from her to use the small Demencia Gadget you were given earlier, quickly pressing on the button, green light turning red to throw it at her. Upon contact, a net of a metallic alloy is released effectively and swiftly trapping her inside.

"And that's Assistant for you." You say from your place still on the ground, trying to catch your breath. "I don't get paid enough to put up with this."

"Hey, not fair! Flug helped you." Demencia accuses from inside the net. 

"And I'm glad he did, otherwise you'd have mauled me to death by now!"

She hisses back. "Maybe. But I was mostly messing with ya until you brought Black Hat into it." You give a long suffering sigh before gathering the stuff that fell out of the plastic container. "What is it with all of you and Mr. Black Hat... Here, you can have your things back after but I'm gonna need you to grab the box through the net so that I can take you downstairs. I don't want to come back up here to pick them up later."

She snorts, but surprisingly enough, follows directions. "You suck."

"Yeah, yeah..." You say as you start dragging her down the hall.

 

..................................................................................................

 

"...Also - really? I leave all sorts of blades behind and you decide to go for the hot sauce?"

Demencia's high pitched voice echoes from the reinforced steel bathroom walls. The room is sizable compared to your own bathroom, but you guess Dr. Flug probably had a hand at designing hers, considering the amount of time it took to even get her inside. It contains a standard toilet and sink with an attached counter top and has random items in disarray, the large mirror attached to the wall is large and circular - you are relieved to see she at least brushes her teeth and hair. The only thing that is abnormal in size is the tub - which looks more like an industrial vat to be quite honest as it's bigger than a standard Jacuzzi. The walls and mirror are fogged with the warm water's vapor, the floor around the tub is wet from the struggle earlier to get Demencia in the water. Her clothes and reptile hoodie are strewn over the floor and are also completely wet from having to dump her inside first before releasing her from the net. It took you using your last bath bomb as offering in exchange for good behavior to continue with the bathing ritual. It was the Intergalactic one too, you lament forlornly looking at the colorful dyes and glimmer fizzing in the water. Well, at least you could enjoy the flowery aroma now and finish your day in peace. 

"What, you actually wanted me to stab you with one of them?" You ask incredulous, using a loofah you found in the vat-tub to scrub her back with lavender soap (also yours) while sitting on your heels on the bathroom floor, legs bare; deciding best to take off the high tights, shoes and gloves and place them on the counter in order to avoid the icky feeling of wet fabric on you. The dull pain from where she bit you earlier is starting to sting with the soap.

"Yeah!!!"

"Why would you even want that, Demencia? That's horrible."

"Gee, I wish I hadn't caught someone so noble off the street." She says cupping some of the water in her hands, watching the colors and glitter mix together, bringing it closer to her face. "You're such a bore." 

"Don't even think about drinking that!" You warn, grabbing the shower's nozzle to rinse off the soap and shampoo. 

"Why? It smells good, will it get me sick?" She quirks an eyebrow at you.

"No - I don't know, but it's gross. Close your eyes" You spray warm water over her head.

"See, when you said 'bath bomb'-I thought you literally meant _a_ Bomb. Not that I'm complaining now." She comments, wet red hair covering her face as you massage her scalp to rinse out the soap underneath.

"Only you guys would think that..." You comment in defeat, turning off the water and grabbing the conditioner and hairbrush to continue working on her hair. 

"Flug never bathes me like this." You take out the length of her hair outside the tub to then apply the creamy product over it, she will need the entire bottle to untangle the mess.

"Oh yeah? I'm surprised he even does it at all because like I said before, Demencia, you're a big girl. You should be doing this by yourself anyway." You are brushing the ends of her hair and have already found one chicken bone and a fork. "Has he hurt you before, is that why you don't like bathing?"

She laughs. "Hah haha! As if the science dork could! No, he just dumps me in here with water and soap and uses a wash brush to scrub me down. Sometimes he uses tranks if I'm feeling specially pissy that day. The loser." You're half way now, and you've taken out a jam jar, a pair of gardening scissors, and a glue gun that was thankfully not glued to her hair. You place all these items inside the container you wisely chose to put next to you.

"That doesn't sound very pleasant at all, but after the bite you gave me it doesn't surprise me. Still, Demencia, he wouldn't have to do that if you showered of your own accord once in a while-I mean look at this." You show her a wrapped block of cheese. "This expired last month!"

"Heeey!! I could have ended up stranded on a mission with nothing to eat but that cheese!" She tries to grab it from you, but you quickly move it away from her to dump it in the box.

"Turn around!" You scold, she sticks her tongue out before she does so.

"Unbelievable." You find a deadly looking gun of some kind, but decide not show it to her and silently place it among the other things for now. "Not to be that chick, but you _are_ a girl after all, I think-and you should take better care of yourself and not just you-I mean all of you weirdos! Don't you want Mr. Black Hat to compliment you one day on how nice you look? How good you smell?" Wow, you never thought you'd be having a 'girl talk' type of conversation with a villain's underling. 

You start brushing from the top of her head to the tips, hair now free of random objects, food and weapons, satisfied in the feeling of brushing smooth silky hair free of tangles.  

"Is that why you do it?" She asks and you stop mid brush, then she turns to face you. "Is that why you doll up everyday? To impress _Mister_ Black Hat?" She moves closer, leaning her forearms onto the edge of the tub, eyelids lowered with a smug but conspiratory look cast over them. "Hmm?"

"Noooo...? I do it because it's part of my job. It's one of the things that's expected of me." 

"Riiiiiiiight." She says, incredulous. "A class hunk like that and you're left cold?" 

"Hm." You feign a cough. "Well, I-um, he certainly doesn't make it easy for someone to find him anything other than terrifying... but-"

"That's the best part though! Okay, okay, go on..." Face full of childish curiosity, the brightness of her mismatched eyes rivaling the glitter from the bath bomb.

"... I suppose his taste in clothes is very refined and... therefore. kind. of. appealing." You can't believe the little brat actually made you say that out loud.

"What." Her voice flat. "That's it? Ahah hah hah ha! And here I thought because you were more 'mature' you'd have more of a juicy insight into my darling~! But oh well, I guess I'll be generous today and share..." 

Suddenly serious giving you pause for a second, she leans over the tub slowly extending her hands toward you, tail-like hair brushed and long forgotten ripples over the surface of the water when she moves, like the deranged version of a captured siren.

"Like for example," She whispers as she gently touches your cheeks while you still have the hairbrush and bottle in hands. "How his big mean powerful hands could engulf your entire face and hold you down in the most obscene position you've ever been held."

Her gaze intense framed by her long dark eyelashes - you find yourself unable to look away. Your mouth suddenly dry.

Her hands trail down to your neck and then over the curve of your chest, leaving a wet flower scented trail behind. "And his height, you can't forget about his height. So tall, so domineering, able to oversee every detail of your person from on top, with his one cunning snake eye" She giggles as she continues on her path downward to your waist. "As he crowds you into a dark corner of the Manor to have his dagger fangs whisper sweet nothings to you, his dark masculine jaw next to your ear, you find you are unable to escape as he goes to--!!" You grab her hands then, snapping back to the present and before she has a chance to do anything else.

"That's enough, Demencia, I get it!!! You think the Boss is the second coming of Christ--wow, that wasn't the best word choice there--but anyway, it's crystal clear you think the Boss is hot. Dully noted!" You get up to unplug the tub so that you can properly rinse Demencia off and be done with this ordeal, while she cackles like a madwoman.

"Your face is red!" She says while holding her stomach amid the hysterics. You throw the empty conditioner bottle at her in an attempt to get her to stop. "Oh man!" She goes on.

"Real funny. Now what would happen then if I actually took a liking to him, hm?" You ask as you turn on the nuzzle and spray her one last time in warm water.

That got her to stop. "Nothing. I would just have to kill you and make it look like an accident, I'm good at that, y'know." She's dead serious too by the sobering look of her face.

You decide to laugh it off instead so as not show her any weakness. "Well, you can keep him--at this point, all I want from him are his paychecks."

"Ugh! Like I said before, you're such a **_bore_**." She huffs getting up from the tub and you run to grab towels to dry her, but mostly to dry her trailing wet hair.

"Why, because I'm not demented devotee of the great Lord Black Hat? It shouldn't be a surprise though, since you're the one that roped me into this, remember?" You are busy wrapping her hair in the third towel kneeling on the floor again.

"It's because you're new that you don't understand, that's all." She looks down at you tilting her head to side.

"But you'll come around. Everyone does in the end."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha, bet you never saw an adult swim villain coming, huh?  
> Recently I started to wonder where would BH fit in adult swim's villain line-up?
> 
> Also I was gonna add more stuff to this chapter but then it would take longer to publish, it'll have to wait until next time.
> 
> Anyway, don't forget to comment, that is like my fuel to keep writing! Every comment is a treasure to me, thoughts I want to hear your thoughts!


	8. Like a Hitchcock Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally rest at last, or so you think.
> 
> [A song was added to accompany this chapter]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dear readers this is the part where those tags come into play. The ride is about to get a bit rocky, so if you are sensitive to any of those tags then you are more than welcome to skip this one, no hard feelings.
> 
> As for the rest of you, devils, I hope you like it!

 

 

 

 

You pinned up your hair in a messy twist using one of Demencia's stray claw clips, figuring she'd hardly miss it after looking at the mess that was her room. This, after wrestling her into wearing pajamas for bed, even if she insisted on not sleeping anytime soon. 

"So clean your room if you're gonna be up then, but no bugging Dr. Flug toda - !" A heavy black boot is thrown your way narrowly missing and hitting the hallway's wood paneled wall instead. You glare at her before slamming the bedroom door shut, leaving her giggling inside.

She made you drop one of the heels from the rest of your uniform's accessories and the plastic container box you had leaning against your hips. Your feet still bare on the red carpeted floor and bath bomb glimmer residue powdered all over you.

"Jerk." You mutter bending down to pick up the black heel. At least you smelled nice. 

You decide to rearrange the items on the box at your side in the dimly lit hall, thinking you'll take the container to Dr. Flug tomorrow and have him decide what to keep. You feel drained and are so looking forward to your bedroom's comfort. Turning around, your body runs into a dark, tall, imposing figure.

It's the Master of the house.

"Mh-my apologies, Sir--I didn't see you!" You stumble back a bit surprised. 

This is the first time you see Mr. Black Hat stroll through the Manor since you arrived, though probably because you are not used to being up and about this late at night and are usually kept busy with several tasks at the time. He peers down at you in silence with his one bone-white eye, hands at his back, impeccable posture as always - and yet he seems to be holding himself with more poise than usual.

"Um, I'm about to go to bed, Sir. Is there something you needed before I go?" You tentatively question, hoping nothing else is asked of you.

"So that's what that scent was."  _Scent?_

He disregards your question to direct his gaze to the place where Demencia bit you. The wound seems to be a bit deeper and more vicious than what you thought as a few droplets of blood are still rising from the punctured wound, you recall her even shaking her head in an attempt to mangle your skin some more. Had your arm been a small animal, it would have surely died in the strong clench of her jaw.

"Oh this? It was Demencia, Sir, we had a bit of a scuffle when I was asked by Dr. Flug to help him bathe her." You try not sound like you're whining, though you kind of resent the bite.

"No wonder you look like a right mess!" He laughs at Demencia's mischief then. "And well, where you able to?" He asks, leaning over you with mirth in his eyes. 

The woody smell of burnt tobacco laced together with wine and the underlying scent of his own cinder aroma hangs heavy in the air. You're not sure if the aftertaste it leaves in your mouth is unpleasant or not.

"With some difficulty, yes, Mr. Black Hat." You hold his gaze as best you can, gripping the container box tighter before clearing your throat. "Well, Sir, if there isn't anything else then I'll be retiring for the night."

Lowering your gaze, beaten in the staring contest, you are about to walk around when he speaks again, the hallway lights flickering for a moment.

"There is."

Outside, light rain begins to fall betraying the afternoon's sunny clear skies.

  
.....................................................................

Hitchcock Starlet by Horrorpops:  https://youtu.be/FIwAe5Cv67Q

.....................................................................

You stand before the wall cabinet in your Boss' study, it is filled with different bottles of mysterious solutions and substances, completely different from the upscale liquors, spirits and wines from the Drawing Room downstairs. The light in the Study casts a somber ambient over the room while also somehow making it brighter despite the lack of filtered sunlight from the large red stained window at the far end wall. The sound of a distant thunder accompanied by the now pouring rain rules over the stillness of the room, serving as muffled background noise while also emphasizing every sound made while your worked.

You really wish you'd been allowed to take a break from the exhaustion of the day before being summoned to serve again; and when you asked for permission to at least finish with the task at hand, he'd merely snapped his fingers and a florescent green flame materialized over the container reducing everything to ashes, your own things included.

He now gestures with his cane to a black opulent flask and you reach on the tip of your toes for it and then for one of the whiskey glasses found inside the solid wood cabinet to pour the beverage inside, avoiding breathing the vapor the substance emits as soon as it hits the ice you brought from the kitchen downstairs in a small silver container. You feel his impassive stare on you as you work, but do not to notice the way he firmly clutches the chair's armrest.

"Here you go, Sir." You offer the glass, evading his eyes still. The short glass holds the translucent semi-dense solution of a dark purple hue that you are certain is not meant for human consumption. He takes it nonetheless and you step back, waiting for the next and hopefully last order of the night.

"Sit." He taps the surface of his immense desk right in front of the place he occupies, sitting on his crimson desk chair. 

"... Sir?"

The order genuinely confuses you for a moment making you wonder if the exhaustion has finally made you delusional, until he slams the surface with more force one last time. You will not be asked again

Your face gives away the mortification, at a loss at the sudden command. However, his intense glare prompts you to obey, no more questions asked. So you walk closer again, every millisecond turns into an eternity as dread engulfs your chest again. It's funny you think, how in these situations your brain tends to hyper-focus on the most inconsequential of things as you notice the sudden plush softness of the rug around his desk when you step over it with the soles of your feet. Also noticing the ticking of the clock in one of his bookshelves and the continuous sound of rain sliding down the window with the occasional interruption of a distant thunder.

He watches your cautious approach, impatiently swirling the drink inside the glass, the ice-cubes clinking with the motion.

The cold surface of the desk hits the back of your thighs as you use the heel of your palms to push yourself onto the desk. Your heart is thundering in your chest not for the first time that day, jolting the fatigue right out of you and making the bite wound on your arm sting just a bit more. The expanse of your bare thighs and feet hang over the desk while he leans back on his chair looking you over like a yet another stack of documents that require his attention, and had it not been for this deceptively detached look you would have surely felt more apprehension over the compromising situation you're in; you wonder if he has any idea of what this would look like if someone where to barge in right now.

You push the thought aside and clear your throat, back straight as a board, eyes looking down unable to hold his gaze. One of your hands goes to fidget with the button of your collar.

"I was fully expecting you'd be done for in less than a week, yet here you are. Still. Except for that little mishap from yesterday, you've done well. In fact, you've even earned me hefty profit today- all by yourself." He smiles, the green of his fangs glints in grim satisfaction. "My doctor tells me you are meticulous and quick to help when needed. In other words, a useful little pawn, after all."

You pause.

A villain's recognition was the last thing you wanted to write down in a resume, accomplishments tarnished by the nature of the job itself and your complicity in crimes. The only reason why you were able to go to bed at night was out of sheer dogged exhaustion, otherwise you think you might need pills to conceive sleep after witnessing the experiments and projects Dr. Flug works on at the lab and the various unnatural objects - specially the hero (and even villain) trophies - all over the Manor. You tried hard to avoid dwelling too long on your 'accomplishments' for fear of losing your own sanity, however, now and with no other distractions to take shelter in...

... you wring your hands together over your lap, the guilt you were trying so hard to suppress finally emerges and settles heavily upon you.

"I know more than a few who would literally kill for my compliments, yet you have nothing to say and look like a chastised child instead. You need to stop hanging around 5.0.5 so much." He snorts in mild irritation while loosening his jet black tie with his free hand.

And that comment gets a response out of you. "I'm sorry, Sir! Thank you!! Th-thank you much, Sir - I didn't mean to be rude or unappreciative - it's just that I've never done any job like this and I-I..." You stop babbling, unsure of what to say next and in fear of the things you'll admit if you keep going.

He rests a foot over his knee. "Enough. Your brain has reached its limit and I've no desire to deal--however, I did want to congratulate you on a job well done with the imbecile of Stingray. Re-branding old inventory released decades past to disguise it as a whole new line of 'exclusive weapons', with minimal effort from our part was so ingeniously classic- and yet the idiot still fell for it!" He snickers. "Did Flug have you review the Orientation material?"

There is a sharp glint in his stare, approving and appraising.

_...able to oversee every detail... with his one... cunning snake eye._

Demencia's words suddenly flood your mind, you blush confused at the intrusive and poorly timed memory, almost thwarting any other emotion you might have had prior. You shake your head, 'no.'

"Even better, you came up with the idea on your own! Would you care to join your Boss for a drink in celebration of your competency?" He asks leaning on an elbow atop the chair's armrest, offering the whiskey glass now to you. You don't think you have a choice to refuse. The bite begins pulsating and a flash of thunder produces white light outside giving the Study a black and white contrast, startling you in the process.

You become still, clasping your hands together. A tiny group of bubbles rises up to the surface of the beverage, your image distorting through the dark concoction inside. Merely looking at it makes your stomach cramp in pain, so in quiet supplication you try, your voice breathy as your throat tightens in uneasiness.  
  
"Black Hat... Sir, I-I don't think I can... drink that."

Silence.

The sudden creak of the chair is all the warning you get as he pulls you off the table in a swift deft motion. The next thing you know is that you are now sitting on his lap, his large hand firm on your waist. Naked toes barely grazing the surface of the red carpet from where you sit over the long length of his legs. Your breathing becomes rapid and alarmed in the new position, and then you seize all movement when you feel the warmth of his mouth next to your ear.

"Of course you can." Goosebumps rise all over your body with the malicious threatening rumble of his voice in your ear.

Your mind races to come up with a reply and is further confounded at the sudden shift in position.  Were you wrong about him having any sort of base human needs? And more importantly, does he actually want you to die by forcing you to drink what you are sure is poison.

"I'll make sure it doesn't kill you, though you will feel slightly... _off,_ for a little while." He answers your question as if reading your mind, causing a shiver to run through your spine, a gasp escapes your lips. His mouth spreads into a Cheshire-grin, and his eye narrows in appreciation of your struggle.

He brings the glass closer to you, his arm cradling your back effectively trapping you there. You spare a quick glance to him, naively looking for reassurance and are met only by the luminous green of his smile and the sharp black slit-pupil of his ivory eye. Perhaps this is retribution for all the people's lives whom you've indirectly ruined in the name of desperate self-preservation and karma has finally caught up to you, so if your Boss doesn't keep his word--this may as well end the agony you are so eager to escape since the moment you set foot inside Mr. Black Hat's property.

You nod and with trembling hands you take the chilled glass offered to you.

"Finally." He says.

However, if this truly were to be your last night on Earth and if you were to be completely honest with yourself then you may as well _also_ make a one last request of your own--you've got nothing to lose at this point. So you close your eyes to take the only chance you may get in a while and hope for the best.

"B-Boss, thank you for the honor, but more than anything I-I would like to ask to have a few days off work to myself. Outside the Manor, if you would allow it, please..." There - with a shaking voice - but you said it. Avoiding mentioning visiting your family as this may iridescent him instead.

There is a moment of silence before he scoffs, tapping one long finger over his temple when you chance a look at him. "Daring of you to ask, Assistant."  You slowly nod expecting a resolute 'No'. "Normally, I would send you away to one of my many Resorts for this impertinence, but I'm feeling rather indulgent today so yes, I'll approve it."

You almost cannot believe what you've just heard, until-

"If you share a drink with me. Finish at least half a glass of the beverage you hold in your hands and then it's a deal." He ends, amusement evident in his voice and you cannot pin-point what it is, but there is also something _else_ in the way he spoke that makes you even more apprehensive than before. You nod anyway with no other choice and brace yourself for the horrid liquid you're about to ingest.

Well, you had a good run... for the most part. Before coming here.

The heavy clock in the Study chimes in a low terrifying tone, its hands strike 12 o'clock. Midnight. The chiming resonates throughout the room in the stillness of the night.

Quickly you bring the cool glass to your lips, tipping it and swallowing its contents in three fast large gulps, avoiding savoring the purple liquid as it went down your throat. And almost immediately you choked and doubled over coughing due to the burning sensation it left and the sour taste at the back of your tongue, eyes stinging with tears while your sinus hurt the same way they did when you spent too much time outside in the cold. A rapid and sudden excess of saliva inundated your mouth, despite the numbness the liquid left on its wake. The beverage sears your insides, feeling its path on the way down to your cramping stomach. Your lungs feel like they were melting inside with every breath you took.

"MhAH HA HA HA HAHAHAHA!"

A deafening thunder right outside the window shakes the Manor followed by a white blinding flash of light, joining the echo of your Boss' laughter. You feel and hear him laughing as you continue to work your way through the coughing fit, the stinging pain of the bite in your arm returns ten fold, blood droplets warming the surface of your skin.

He takes the glass from you still laughing at his own cruelty and your own suffering. When he sets it down on the desk, you manage to see that you finished more than half a glass of the fetid drink. Finally you try to get up to look for some water to see if it will help, but he promptly pulls you back down over his lap clamping one large clawed hand over your mouth.

You go to pull his terrifying hand away but end up only holding onto it instead.

"Don't be rash now, Assistant, breath deeply through your nose if you don't want to choke in your own vile." He says squeezing one of your heaving shoulders in warning.

Shutting your eyes and doing your best to follow directions as the only option left, you inhale the faint smell of his dark leather gloves when you breathe in--it surprisingly calms you and after a moment you are mercifully able to take steady breaths without a wheezing cough. Your Boss kept his hand a moment longer before letting go, you continued to breath through your nose recovering from the awful experience, amazed to still be alive.

"Well, how did you like it?" Your Employer asks with a grin on his face. His monocle shining in interest.

"Boss, please-don't make me drink that. Ever Again." You honestly answer, wiping the tears from your eyes.

"Ha! Give it a few seconds and you'll see..." 'See what?!', now truly scared you whip back to look at him with every intention to ask him when _it_ starts. _  
_

The foul aftertaste lingering in your mouth quickly turns bittersweet, moments later only sweet--in fact, it is the sweetest thing you've tasted in a while not counting 5.0.5's honey pancakes. You pause what you're doing mildly unnerved at the sudden changes. Then a heavy lukewarm numbing sensation overtakes your entire body. You tilt your head starting to feel it heavy while a cooling breeze makes its way to the crown of your head. The discomfort from before is gone and is now replaced by an extremely pleasant sensation, almost as if you're floating down a river. Distantly you register another lightning strike close by in the mild storm of rain outside. Your vision spinning a little, but at the same time you feel more attuned to your surroundings even as time itself seems to have slowed down as well. Your Boss' hand returns to the place at your hip, softly kneading it with the tips of his claws, like a cat getting ready to rest--you almost say aloud and stop when you briefly observe you had not noticed when the sharp claws appeared. However, after a  moment you decide to pay no mind as your thought process continues to become muddled, your mind swimming in a calm balmy haze. Your breathing has considerably evened and slowed down, following the same rhythm from when you slept. Yet you still have the presence of mind to ask whether you were actually dying.

"Sir, wh-whatz... going ohn...am I.. am I dying?" Your words become slurred. You wonder if this is what your Boss feels when he's drinking, but then think it silly since his unearthly anatomy must process things differently.

"Come now, Assistant, never been tipsy before?" He asks with a teasing gravelly voice, while he scoots you even closer to him.

Your concern dissipates distracted by the feeling of a taut chest and the high-end material of Mr. Black Hat's clothes, you feel nervous despite the daze of your brain, though now for completely different reasons altogether; you've never been this close to anyone like _him_ before, contrary to popular belief of the perks of your previous job as an Executive Assistant. Although you did take the liberty to occasionally check-out the suits and their expensive tastes (not unlike your own Boss' now) that paraded in and out of the Executive Suite of your former employer. Nice and good-looking as they were, the college boys you dated prior could not begin to compare to these experienced professional men. But why are you even thinking about that now, when you should be worried about the being on whose firm lap you currently sit, instead of running your hands through the silky fabric of his grey smooth vest like a mesmerized idiot-wait. Crap.

You jerk your hand away, face completely red if the warmth of your ears and neck are any indication. "So ss..rry, sSir." You say and try to move away from him, but find that it takes a monumental effort from your part to do so.

"You only had a few gulps and look at you now, no self-control whatsoever." He continues to playfully tease. However, when you gaze up at him you see that the look in his eyes has turned into something more predatory.

Your spine curls as a shudder wracks through your body, you should probably be scared but feel something completely different in place of fear and only end up making a choking sound as a response while he sniggers at you. Another wave of soothing warmth washes over you immediately after that. Enough. You're... your Boss should know how inappropriate and compromising all this is. Like right this second.

"Ssir..." You hear yourself say.

His grip on you tightens, and you think you catch him run his tongue over his sharp teeth during a set of flashing lightning outside. "Yes, Assistant?"

The lights go out.

But there's no reason to panic now when your Boss is so close by and the darkness of the room is illuminated by his green fangs and the white of his shining monocle. Then you've no idea what you were about to say in the first place and go for the next thing that comes to your mind instead.

"Y-ya know... what Dem, Demencia zzaid 'boutchu jus' now?"

"Oh, I'm sure she's said many things about me. But do tell." His voice sounds somewhat distracted and you barely register him grab one of your hands in the dark.

"W-well, fist-firstof all...she sshuld be mer more repecful of yu... and of de Doc. Wahts-his-face? Oh, Doctor Fig. Flug." You feel his chest quake as he actually chuckles this time. What's so funny? This is a serious conversation! "No, nno-I'm seriess."

"Ah, you must excuse my rudeness." His voice condescending but entertained. The asshole.

"Becuz, like Dem," you raise your one free hand to gesticulate even if he can't see it in the dark, but who knows, maybe he can so whatever. "She wazlike... spoutin' all-all this nonsense durin' her aah-bath... Boss. Like, the chick izlike mad thirsty abou'you. And, and I was all lieg 'oh my god, this is so uncomfy fer me, why areyou teliin' me dis?' be-becuz yer my uh, yer my Boss... even if ya zcare the crap out of me. But like, mmaybe das wat bosses're supposed to do...?"

He has your wrist in the palm of his hand now, it feels massive compared to yours, the tips of his claws softly touch the surface of your skin. At some point your hair had come down again as well. Crap, now how  are you going to tell Demencia that you lost her hair clip?

"That's right, I'm your Boss, don't you ever forget it. It would be a pain to deal with two Demencias in the house. I would have to get rid of one of you!" He reaffirms, before murmuring. 'Why the hell do you have glitter on you? 

Then you've no idea why you said the following, completely unprompted. "But Blag-Black Hat Boss, Sir, y-you... _**are**_ dashing. Very, very dashing-and. Tall. Andsssso ya gan't be angr-mad ad her even if sh.. toootally groped m.. a bit ago-shezz, becus shiz just...a a kid ... an' yor, your-you're-"

You notice a bit too late the manic grin on his face, and the way he has you flush against his chest by the strong grip of his hand on your side, while the other cradles your forgotten injured arm. There's the heady alluring smell from before coming off Mr. Black Hat again, it fills your senses bringing your attention back to him.

"You smell hmm- _really good_ , Mr. Boss..." You half-moan not caring how terribly inappropriate that sounded.

Fortunately for you, he laughs again. "Why thank you, Ms. Assistant. You smell positively **delectable**." His uncovered eye in penetrating focus and fangs shining in the dark void of the room.

Delectable...? That only made you think of food, speaking of-

"Ssir, weren't chu, weren't you... gonna drink wid me?" You ask kind of worried now, since you don't think you can manage to get up to pour another glass of whatever that was for him.

A devious low snicker answers your question. "You don't need to worry about that, because my drink is _right_ **HERE** -YOU LITTLE FOOL!"

A last gust of wind shakes the windowsill followed by a reverberating thunder as the night's sky fractures outside, then a subsequent series of flashes of white light reveal Mr. Black Hat's countless dagger-teeth inside a wide gaping maw which housed a thick snake-like tongue that tasted the air in anticipation, ready to clamp down over the still bleeding wound of your arm as translucent radiant green saliva runs down his jaw. already savoring your flesh in his mouth.

Your eyes only widen in shock when he snaps his jaw shut with an animalistic growl, fangs sinking over the soft skin of your punctured arm.

 His iron grip remains even as your body jerks in reaction to the cold stabbing sensation of his bite. You did not scream, there was no time, there is only the sound of rain and silence.

Then your eyes water at the terrifying sight. Your chest heaves up and down against his own, your heart speeds up and if he could not hear it before then you think he can surely feel it now in the flushed proximity of your positions. Undiluted fear momentarily continues to run through your veins despite the foggy state of your mind, before it turns into something completely different yet again when you feel the softness of his warm sinewy tongue sweep over the new bite he inflicted there, encouraging the blood overflow. it is a peculiar dull sensation that settles at the pit of your stomach. Panic of a whole new kind seizes your senses upon the realization and your free hand blindingly searches for purchase onto something- anything, until it grasps onto the very entity causing you so many conflicted melting cycle of emotions. He seems to pick up on this, gazing down at you below the brim of his black gentleman's hat, head at an angle as he softly gnaws on your abused flesh with a devilish satisfaction about him. A soft groan escapes your lips before you turn away flustered to bury your face into the lapels of his inky coat, face red and panting, your hand grasping his square firm shoulder harder. You desperately try to keep your thighs from quivering with every new ministration of his teeth as he mouths and drinks from the lacerations he instigated. An occasional whimper escapes the back of your throat through your bitten lower lip.

A particular rough bite wrenches a half-moan half-sob out of you and your thighs twitch as you startle with the sudden vicious treatment.

"Mngh-ah! Sir... pl-ease, don't!" You plead in small restrained voice.

"Don't what, Ms. Assistant? You seem to enjoying this just as much." Bouncing his knee, he pulls you away from the hiding spot of his coat.

It is at this moment that the lights of the Study return to expose your flushed panting face and tousled hair clear for him to see.

"You look _delicious_ right now. Maybe I should just eat you instead..." He says through a blood stained gritted grin and a predatory slanted feline eye, his voice fluctuating between thick and guttural and his normal gravelly accent- struggling to keep his gentlemanly humanoid persona. And still you moan and arch your back in offering, actually finding the suggestion very agreeable; to give yourself up for consumption to this otherworldly being doesn't seem like such a bad end to have after all. His words stirring a rousing sensation in the murky depths of your mind.

Your display seems to have an effect on him, as he starts salivating even more than before-drool dripping down your breasts and thighs, green fangs elongating and claws growing to a disproportionate size, bracing to tear you apart.

"Black Hat, Ssir!" You exclaim with expectation and a hint of fear in your voice.

He freezes at the sound of your words and then abruptly retracts his enormous claws, wiping the green drool from his chin, flickering it off to the side in a quick motion while clearing his throat.

"Let's not get carried away." He says leaning back, composing himself. "Perhaps another time."

You know at the back of your mind that you should be thankful for this but instead you feel a little disappointed, and end up blaming that on your inebriated state as an afterthought. You appear to slowly be returning to your senses as most of the beverage seems to have been sucked out by Mr. Black Hat himself. Though you feel a little light-headed you wonder how long had this ordeal lasted and you're about to look at the clock in the bookshelf, when you feel his hand grab your chin to tilt it up and towards him.

His cinder face unreadable as he brings the tip of one of his long fingers to your forehead.

"Mr. Black Hat?" You inquire, uneasy.

And then only darkness.

 

......................................................................

 

The girl collapses onto the solid shadow of the hatted man [who is not a man] that currently occupies the crimson chair. Dead to the world in a deep slumber as the storm outside rages on.

It was truly a wonder she managed to last here so long, that part at least, he was honest about.

Hunger satisfied for the moment, the man-who-is-not studies the girl for a moment longer, finally taking time to note the pliant softness of her flesh. The curvature of her breasts and the pronounced firm hips on his lap giving away to a set of smooth shapely thighs that remained covered most of the time by the sheer garments issued by the Organization, the one she was foolish enough to get herself involved with - but that doesn't matter now, the man-who-is-not decides as he moves on with the observations. Silky hair frames a good-natured face, with sooty long lashes which stand out all the more in the paleness of her skin, possibly due to the blood loss from earlier. Her lips swollen and pink after she bit them trying to keep him from hearing her moans, not that it worked in the end. 

The dark being narrows his eyes in assessment, carefully considering the fragile human on his lap for a time.

He finally rises carrying the girl in arms. Her hands hanging lifeless at her sides, dress riding up further still over her thighs with the bending of her knees as he holds them on his long slender hand, but that's fine no one is the Manor is out in the hallways at this time of night to look. Her neck is exposed as her head tilts back, while her upper back is supported by a black clad arm. Long tresses of hair give her the image of a rescued damsel in distress which amuse the obsidian figure with sadistic irony to no end.

He advances to the now opened doors of his Study and into the dark cold hallways of his Manor, conversely speaking to the unconscious girl in arms. 

 

"You're a dangerous one."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are very much appreciated as always. Thank you all for your continued support and patience.  
> I-no! WE'RE on this one for the long run!
> 
> Also I opened a side Tumblr now and if you're interested in getting a better idea of what Reader may look like--but I completely understand if you aren't! Though i do want to to warn you it only has 1 (one) image 'cuz I deleted the earlier sketches by accident. I'm sorry! But anyway, let me know!
> 
> Thank you all again.


	9. We'll Let Them All Just Run Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paid Time Off Status: [Approved]

 

 

 

_A cold chill dominates the expanse of your bedroom, despite the crisp late afternoon light entering through the curtains of the window bay facing the horizon._

_The room slowly spirals around and down on your prone form laying motionless on its side over the bed, the soft duvet cushions your body when you begin to stir from the deep slumbering trance you were under. Sensing mild disorientation before opening your eyes you choose to lay there in a semi-awake state for a few more minutes, enjoying the feeling of resting heavy eyelids and slow even breathing. The stillness of your room shrouds you in an illusion of protection and peace, despite the muffled distant cityscape sounds traveling in made by the unconcerned bright world outside. It's nice and you cling to this feeling as long as you can until the cold air becomes unbearable, finally pulling you into consciousness. The tips of your fingers twitch in reflex and your eyelids flutter open struggling to accommodate to the light in the room, brow creasing in a mixture of confusion and mild relief when you drowsily recognize the familiar setting of your living quarters, not recalling how you even got here in the first place last night._

_Using your elbows for support you attempt to get up, doing your best to ignore the traces of sleep that beg you to close your eyes again. Looking around the room as you shift, you look for clues that might provide an answer to your conundrum. How did you get here? Were you really so far gone with fatigue that you-- your train of thought is interrupted by a searing pain coming from one of your forearms._

_Sets of sharp lesions and dry blood adorn your arm, their vicious pattern in the shape of inhuman teeth arch into the undeniable curve of barely restrained bite wounds. You gaze at them frozen in place, your brain going over everything that transpired the night prior._

_The light outside is overcast by a passing grey cloud, engulfing your room into a matching dismal grey color._

.......................

See, when you asked 5.0.5 if they had a first aid kit, you foolishly hoped he would take you to one instead of walking you right into the Lab where Dr. Flug was currently working. Thinking about it in retrospect, it should not have surprised you given 5.0.5's upbringing and the place where it made more sense to have a medical kit available - even if you were hoping for a bit more discretion when you decided to ask the bear first. You only wanted some gauze and supplies to clean the wound and not to have this awkward conversation with the Doctor in the Lab.

"So what happened?" He asks in a flat tone, taking out a few items out of the first aid kit eyeing your arm.

Oh Boy. You weren't even allowed outside so you couldn't say a dog bit you, and it looked more like a mountain lion type of bite anyway.

"Uhm... I-um, one of the old tomes Mr. Black Hat keeps in the Archive Room bit me last night...?" You nervously grin as you finish your explanation. God, you are a terrible liar.

He sets out a disposable medical underpad over the desk before sitting down on a low swivel stool, sliding himself closer to the desk to get ready to treat the serrated cuts on your arm. 5.0.5 leaves as soon he drops you off, having an obvious aversion to anything too gory or bloody and you don't blame him.

"Hmm. How strange, I don't believe you were scheduled to work on the Library last night. You were supposed to be bathing the obnoxious lizard, were you not?"

Crap. "Oh well, you know... I had to hunt her down all the way there. You know, how she gets, Doctor...heh."

A stinging pain has you hissing through gritted teeth as Dr. Flug pours antiseptic alcohol on the wounds without warning.

"You're a really bad liar." Is his only comment as he continues to treat your arm with practiced care in silence.

You feel slightly hurt at the remark, so you turn away from him feeling a bit despondent. It's just that you got the feeling that whatever happened last night should be regarded with discretion as you were still having trouble processing it yourself. And what would he think of you if you openly talked to him about that? You feared he would misunderstand the situation you were in and lose the little respect you had so painstakingly gained assisting him in the lab. Yes, you were no genius as he liked to remind you, but you tried your best to be a diligent efficient worker and he seemed to notice. And that meant something to you, as he is the only one other more or less reasonable person in the house whom you got along with. He even taught you a thing or two from time to time, as you recall enjoying watching him puff up his chest to confidently talk about a range of science related topics ranging anywhere from basic biology to multi-dimensional theories and aerospace technologies. And the endearing way his eyes lit up behind his goggles whenever you asked a question about the subject. So maybe he did deserve the decency to at least not be lied to.

So you take a breath to begin. "Listen, Doctor, I-"

"The Boss sent me the approval for your vacation time - he allowed for only a handful of days off. You should count yourself lucky that he did not ask me to get you a one way ticket to one of the Organization's Resorts for Unhelpful Henchmen." He speaks over you, abruptly changing the subject as he finished applying medical glue closing your opened lesions. "I'll get the paperwork in a moment."

He did not give you a chance to make things right, and you hesitated to broach the subject again noticing the tensing of his shoulders and hands as he picked up the supplies with an air of irritation, the sight contrasting with the cold sterilized backdrop of the Laboratory.

"That shouldn't leave a scar with the ointment I applied."

"Thank you, Doctor." You say softly.

He merely 'hm's in acknowledgement as he gets up from the chair.

.....................................................................

 

The last tress of warmed hair bounced off the curling wand as you finish getting ready to leave. You hum a song that has been stuck in your head and are in good spirits despite everything.

Your former roommate was overjoyed to hear you'd been granted time off and immediately offered to pick you up to give you a ride to the train station that would take you back to your parents' hometown. You declined the offer, proposing you'd rather meet at a restaurant instead and not because the Organization had offered transportation as well, but because you wanted some time alone to gather your thoughts and outwardly look well put together when you met her.

The opaque yellow paper sealed with the Black Hat Organization logo accompanied by your and Dr. Flug's cursive signature sits on the stationary desk next to your laptop. The memo stipulated the day down to the hour and minute you were supposed to be back to the Mansion, otherwise a group of Hatbots would be dispatched for your retrieval. You are okay with this, since all you had to do was simply set alarms on your phone that would ensure you had plenty of time to get back. And even that ended up being unnecessary when Dr. Flug handed you what seemed to be a pocket watch of sorts, which you were expected to carry with you at all times-also specified on the approval slip. You suspect it doubled as a tracking device of sorts but decided not to say anything, since you were just happy not to have to wear the dreary uniform with its prominent dark cold metal button at your neck. You were made to sign a confidentiality agreement as well in which 'under penalty of death and/or torture' you are not to speak a word regarding the Organization's business partners, protocols, and processes - not that you would have had anyway, doubting it made for agreeable dinner conversation in the first place.

You put the last items back inside your single traveling luggage and headed for the door, locking it on the way out.

.........................................................................

 

"Wow, and what sort of magic did you work to get days off?"

A high pitched voice calls out from one of the columns at a corner of the entrance hall. You looked up from adjusting a strap from one of your peep toe shoes while sitting on one of the couches at the entrance foyer area. Sure enough, Demencia crawls down the pale column, you hadn't noticed her when she even got up there. You get up from the couch, slightly on guard at her presence but still answer her question while waiting for the requested driver.

"No magic. I simply do what I'm told... and I guess there's nothing like good old fashioned manners as well." You smile wryly at her.

"Weird. Doctor Mister _Nerd_ does the same and yet he's never gotten a day off as far as I can remember." She eyes you suspiciously. "Say, you're not trying to run away, are you?"

"Nno-no no! I was fully authorized to leave the Manor, you can ask Mr. Black Hat himself!" Please don't somehow ruin this for me, you plead internally.

"Oh I definit-... Did I do that?" She points to the bandage peaking from the edge of your bishop styled half sleeves. You are not sure how to answer her question, because while it was her that got you, she was not entirely to blame for aggravating the injury, but not like you would tell her anyhow...

"Err..." Oh, what the hell. "Yes."

To your relief she cackles in a shrill thrill of laughter. "You are such a **_weakling_**! What, will you bleed to death next time if I kick you in the-"

"If you do that then I won't give you anymore bathbombs and keep them all to myself instead when I come back!" You scold her doing your best to look serious, crossing your arms, careful not to wrinkle the sun hat you held in one hand. Unbelievable.

"Don't be such a hardass, that was only an 'if'." She says in a playful tone now bringing her arms behind her back in a surprising attempt to appease you, you only sigh in reply. The driver cannot come fast enough

"So. Where are ya goin'?" She slithers toward your luggage to sniff it. 'Ew, smells girly.' she mutters.

"As far as I can from here." Is your tacit answer and watch her inspect the wheeled bag while you start putting on the wide brimmed sun hat

"Awww~ if it's far then maybe I should come along to make sure you come back safe and sound~!" She turns around with a smile full of child-like sadism.

Your hands pause arranging the wide brim of the hat over the crown of your head, and are about to speak when the the pull of a dense dark presence looms behind you.

"You will do no such thing, Demencia, because like Flug- you ALSO have commissioned work to do! **SO GET TO IT!!!** " The command reverberates throughout your bones when the order is barked from somewhere close behind, instantly recognizing the voice as your Boss.'

"Yessir!" She does a military salute after emerging from momentarily cowering behind the couch, sprinting off right before sticking her tongue out at you. You barely have time to feel offended at the slight gesture when Mr. Black Hat is standing at your back.

So you quickly turn around, stepping away as far as you dare without being overtly rude to him. "Good, good Morning, Sir!" You greet in a low shaky nervous voice, looking up at him.

"Dr. Flug tells me you declined the offer to use the Organization's transportation services. I'd feel hurt if I had a heart, Assistant, since we would at least make sure _you_ got to your destination in one piece. If anything else." He says with a mischievous mocking grin on his face.

"Thank you, Sir, I-I really appreciate it, but I fear my fa-ahm... people, _people_ would be frightened by the Organization's insignia and I prefer to be as inconspicuous as possible this time around." You offer to ease his unspoken curiosity.

"Frightened, as the worms they are should be. Fair enough." He accepts, still surveying you.

"Thank you, Sir."

You look down to the floor, his sharp wonderfully shined leather shoes a familiar sight by now. You are not entirely sure what else to say to keep the silence at bay. And then the images come to you once again prompting you to do a monumental mental feat to push them aside, unfortunately finding it difficult when the subject of your nightmares stands right before you. Yet you are lucky that no one is around as the images persist to watch you inexplicably blush, heat rising above the square neckline of your top, trying really hard not to remember the intense grip of his powerful claws on you. Does he... Should you, should you say something? What and how could you possibly even-

"Those disgusting colors don't suit you anymore, although they do make a savory contrast with the blush of your flesh." His tone nonchalant, referring to the light pastels of your outfit, seemingly unbothered by the tense atmosphere you are currently drowning in.

"Sir, I'm afraid these are the only colors I have." You gaze up at him, uneasy.

"We'll have to change that soon then, won't we?" He snickers and the shadow he casts ripples in excitement at the implied promise.

You swallow in return.

Then he straightens up with a sudden movement to clear his throat and the atmosphere of the room as well. "Well then, it seems your inferior transport has arrived. So I suppose this is where I rid of you for a time."

He brings one arm to the front to conjure up his black glossy cane, motioning it up and toward the grand double doors of the Main Entrance. They slam open, letting the light from the outside flood in overtaking the dark blues and greys of the Manor, an already warm breeze brings leaves and natural debris inside.

You stand there stunned and confused for a second until the phone in your brown purse pings notifying you of your driver's arrival.

"Tell your mother I give her my commends in your upbringing; for raising such a servile subject." A smile a set of green cruel knives bids from the shadows where the light doesn't reach.

His words sink like heavy lead over you in realization and then you blindly reach for your luggage, ready to sprint for the gates as soon as you have the chance.

"Yes, B-boss, I'll let her know..." Your eyes watery, unable to blink even as you attempt to turn to back away from him and towards the door.

"Ah, but don't forget this." His eye overjoyed, watches you squirm in the frame of the morning light.

You pause your retreat while an invertebrate sinewy smoky tendril emerges from within his shadowy form to present you with a small black object. It is Demencia's claw clip, the one you picked up from the floor of her messy bedroom the night prior. His ever present grin broadens and the monocle glints reflecting the warm morning sun.

"I tossed it to the floor last night."

He casually explains.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short this time around.
> 
> Also if you're interested, let me know if you're interested in the side Tumblr I set up.  
> And a big shout out to Inkberrypie for her awesome art- which has been posted at the aforementioned Tumblr!  
> (I'm in love~!)
> 
> As always comments and kudos are gold to me, so give this filthy beggar some sugar!


	10. So Nearly Yours So Nearly Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to another song is found within this chapter.

The trek home was mercifully uneventful with fields, towns, and ocean sceneries zipping by through the small square window of the train cart. Yet you took interest in the people inside and around you as well, basking in the feeling of finally returning to normalcy if only for a time.

That is until the train comes to an unexpected stop midway through an industrial park area through which the train's route cut through. And an announcement is promptly heard through the cart's overhead speakers in an pre-recorded automated male voice:

WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE DELAY. DUE TO RECENT EVENTS THE ROAD AHEAD IS UNDER RECONSTRUCTION. WE WILL PROCEED WITH CAUTION MOMENTARILY, RETURN TO YOUR SEATS AND REMAIN SEATED. YOUR SAFETY IS OUR NUMBER ONE PRIORITY.

What? What recent events, what's going on? The ambiance of the train changes with low murmurs as passengers on the food carts slowly make their way back to their assigned seats. Straining your neck to see what's up ahead through the window reveals little due to the angle of the train over its rails. A few moments later the train advances at a much lower speed than before, entering an encasing of sorts made with temporary semi-transparent tarps held up by wired arches. You squint your eyes to see what could possibly be the cause of this when you catch sight of a white snowy material trough the plastic tarps. It seems to be as if winter arrived early only to this section of the train's path, many of the passengers lean into the windows to take snapshots of the out-of-season winter wonderland. The immediate giveaway that something was not quite right with the white material was the many orange suited people working with hoses that suctioned the strange substance into a bulky portable orange backpacks carried over their shoulders. Somehow, the sight seems oddly familiar to you- and then you see them. At a distance, and then closer as the train continues on; humongous icicles of awesome size with sharp deathly ends- like swords - haphazardly point up as if trying to pierce the sky itself. It is unmistakably, Black Hat Organization's latest product, the Glacial Grenade.

You emit an audible gasp, bringing one hand to your mouth as if struck by the sheer scale and viciousness of the weapon, to think this one was only the Medium sized one has your thoughts reeling--not wanting to imagine what the Large one must look like. You grab the window's curtains to cover the view outside, turning away from it feeling slightly sick.

"I know, deary. It's a really hard sight to watch." The old lady across from you in the other isle says in a consoling manner from her seat. "Thank goodness for our heroes, otherwise I don't know what this world would have come to by now.

You only nod a quiet acknowledgement of her empathy. You lean back onto the cushioned material of your seat to put on your headphones to listen to music for the rest of the trip home, but not quite achieving in erasing the image from your mind.

.....................................................

  
It was mid afternoon, by the time you made it through the front yard of your parent's home, luggage in tow. You raise your hand about to ring the bell, but stopped opting to use your house key and just burst in instead to surprise them as they had no idea you were coming home today. When you unlocked the door and came in, you were greeted by the sight of your mother carrying a basket of clothes toward the garage door. She stopped walking frozen in place, startled by your sudden entry but soon dropped the basket when she saw that it was her daughter finally visiting after weeks of little to no contact.  
  
" _Dios Mío, mi niña_!" She rushes over, enveloping you in a warm tight hug, as if she had not seen you in years. You return it just as tightly dropping your purse to the ground and shutting your eyes enjoying the soft warmth of her embrace.  
  
"I missed you so much, Mama!" Your voice hoarse, burying your face in the locks of her hair and in the familiar perfume of gardenias, you feel as though she were a shield which keeps all the ills and darkness of the world at bay. For a while there, back at the Manor you thought you wouldn't get another chance to see her or your father again.  
  
"Why didn't you tell us you were coming! Huh, _Corazón_? I would have had your dad take the day off." She says pulling away to cup your face with her hands. You use a fingertip to wipe at the corner of your eyes the tears that had gathered there.

"Just wanted to give you guys a surprise, that's all..." And then you hug her again to hide your face.  
  
" _Ay! Mi vida_ , my baby..." Your mother coos, stroking your hair. "Welcome home."  
  
You stay in the living room's warm light, clinging to the moment as long as you could.  
  
Dinner was filled with conversation and the smell of a homemade dinner wafting through the air. Your mother could not stop gushing how much more mature and lady-like you looked now, while your dad asked question after question about the things you were up to- specially interested in when you'll be getting a car, because you needed a car for work and did you want to go look for one tomorrow morning?

It was great if a bit intrusive, but you were able to redirect their questioning with practiced ease by now, since you took the time to go over answers to their questions on the train ride over here.  
  
"How was Mr. Lovern's barbecue? Sorry, I couldn't make it." You ask conversationally, later realizing your mistake.  
  
"It was great. Most of his family came to visit. I'm just so happy for him that he has such a large family looking after him, specially after his retirement from hero duty... _Pobre señor_." Your mom says stirring the sugar in her coffee.

And then, "By the way, his neph-"  
  
"Do you guys want to go shopping tomorrow?! My treat!" You interrupt her knowing full well where conversation was headed.  
  
"No need, honey. You should save your money." Your father begins, completely unaware of the exorbitant amount you are paid as a mere 'lowly Assistant' under Black Hat's Organization.  
  
"C'mon, let me spoil _you_ guys for a change!" You beg, and eventually they give in when they see your hopeful smile as you reach to hold their hands.  
  
..........................................................................................  
  
You look around your former bedroom while your mom puts fresh sheets on the bed. Everything remained pretty much how you left it, your desk, dresser, and bedside lamp intact, you guessed your mom came to dust in here once in a while. The walls were painted years ago in a cream peachy color by your father, and furnished with stark white furniture; you loved it as a teenager and still do even now. The room's size encompasses only a portion when compared to the bedroom back at the Manor, the twin bed is no different-comically small and narrow, inhabited by a variety of stuffed animals who've taken momentary residence in the accent sofa at the corner of your room.

Still though, if you could somehow uproot this space, you would not hesitate to bring it back with you. Dr. Flug probably has some sort of device somewhere in the Lab that could do that, you mused to yourself looking at the many cute decorations hung up on the wall.  
  
"It's done, _Corazón_." Your mom finishes looking at you expectant. "Are you sure you don't want me to help you change the dressing on your arm? I heard even cat bites can leave behind a nasty mark!"  
  
"No, it's fine. I can handle it." You smile reassuringly, holding your arm behind you protectively.  
  
"Okay, then. Good night, _mi'ja, sue ña con los angelitos_."

She kisses your forehead before leaving you to give you privacy so that you can unwind in peace.  
  
...........................................................................................  
  
[ wat is dis ]  
  
[ y did you not tell us u were comin >:( ]  
  
The text messages stared up at you through the screen of your phone. You were sitting on a bench in the middle of the mall, letting your throbbing feet rest and watching over the shopping bags while your parents ordered iced coffee from the little overcrowded shop a few paces away from you. The text was from your old childhood friend who made the decision to continue life in town even after graduating the local community college, you smile at the message appreciating her reaching out to you even after weeks of sparse and dodgy contact from your end.  
  
[ Hey there! So sorry! It was a last minute thing, I did not have it planned ] You type back adding a little concerned emoticon.  
  
Then the almost instant reply. [ dat's no excuse, it literally takes you less than 1 min to text ]  
  
You bite your lower lip and grimace, she's right - to your defense you were too preoccupied with other things - but that's still no excuse, you're a terrible friend.  
  
Wait.  
  
[ How did you find out anyway? ] You shoulders tense as you wait for a reply.  
  
A moment passes, and it seems eternal as you glance around browsing through the crowd, worried and unsure of what you were expecting to see in the sudden wariness of your surroundings. Every swatch of black and flash of metallic hues setting you on edge until your eyes decipher their form; a silver purse, a black long beach dress, goth kids walking around.  
  
The phone vibrates on your hand again.  
  
[ your old roomie told us over on the group[ chat, she wanted us to check on you when u got here ]  
  
Oh.  
  
That explains it, you breath at ease again. [ Aww, how thoughtful of her! ] You needed to call her to thank her, she was always looking after you like a big sister.  
  
Another notification: [ so ]  
  
[ let's go out tonite~! ] Dancing and party emoticons spammed the screen of your phone.  
  
"Here's you coffee, hun." Your dad hands you your drink taking a seat next to you, your mother at his side. You thank them and set your phone down to take a sip.  
  
"I'm beat." Your mother exhales after a moment of comfortable silence.  
  
"Should we call it a day then? My feet are starting to hurt." You comment, looking down at your wedges under the skirt of your teal flowery dress.  
  
"Sounds like a plan! I need to get dinner started too." She turns to your father, " _Gordo_ , you're going to help me." And takes another sip from her frappe to continue. "Goodness, I don't think I've ever shopped this long in my life!"  
  
You and your dad laugh because she was usually the one that needed to be dragged out of shops every time.  
  
"That's a first one, dear." You dad says holding his stomach, but looks at your right after. "Are you sure all this is okay?" He asks motioning to the shopping bags on the floor.  
  
"Yes, dad. My job pays well so I wanted to treat you." It pays just about right, you want to say considering what you have to deal with on a 7 day work week with ridiculously long shifts and even more-if not grim- outlandish and ruthless situations. Always something new, that's for sure.  
  
Your phone, as if summoned by your thoughts alone, begins to ring then. When you look at the caller ID on the screen, your stomach plunges to your feet. It reads in all its emoticonned airplane glory: Dr. Flugslys.  
  
" _Corazón_ , aren't you going to answer?" Your mom asks, peering at you curiously.  
  
"Mhu-uh!? Y-yes, I gotta take this, it's from my work!" You get up from the bench and walk a few paces off to the side, before sliding your finger over the screen to take the call.  
  
"He-, hello?" You ask, your back straight while the other hand grasps at the puffy material of your skirt.  
  
There's nothing at first.  
  
And then Dr. Flug's familiar strained voice can be heard alongside the sound of struggle and animal whines. Now you're just confused.  
  
"Um, hello?" You try again, beginning to think he must have dialed you by mistake, so you're about to hang up when he finally manages to speak.  
  
"Hey! Don't hang up!" It sounds like he is struggling against something, while deep guttural whines become louder and clearer. "It's-shush, buddy, I'm trying to talk. It's 5.0.5!" The animal sounds make more sense now, but then...  
  
"What? What's wrong with him?!" Your hand goes to your mouth after realizing how loud that was and then walk further away from your parents waiting at the bench.  
  
"He- he thinks that we offed you and not in the-hmph!" More shifting and the sound of glass beakers breaking, "Calm down, bud- and not in the 'we fired you' type of way! He's been hysterical since this morning after he couldn't find you!!"  
  
Oh man, you forgot to say bye to 5.0.5 before you left! You can picture it now, 5.0.5 waiting for you this morning with breakfast ready, by now accustomed to your presence and already sitting on the kitchen island, happy to have company when his beloved Doctor had limited time to spend with him and Demencia not being much of a morning person. Fretting in his anxious nature when you didn't come downstairs, to then go and knock at your bedroom door, you don't doubt he immediately started looking for you all over the house to then end up in the Doctor's Lab. You hope this didn't get him in trouble with the Boss...  
  
"I'm gonna be back, tell him not to worry!" You hunch over the phone. half-whispering and half-shouting before looking to check if your parents are watching. And they are. You nervously wave at them and turn back to the phone again.  
  
"Well, you can tell that to him yourself- Ow, ow...! That's my shoulder there, friend- because he doesn't believe me!" Doesn't believe him? Why wouldn't 5.0.5 belie- ... you don't like the implication of that particular train of thought.  
  
"I wonder why, Doctor..." Your tone flat and accusing, thinking of reasons why 5.0.5 would not completely trust the Doctor when it came to his friends' well-being, if the little delivery boy fiasco was anything to go by.  
  
"Ha ha." He says in a humorless reply. "That's neither here nor there- Now talk to him!" He yells into the speaker. "Okay, okay! She's on the line, 5.0.5." Movement can be heard with more muffled whining until the bear's growl comes through the speaker.  
  
"Br-brwuh...?" 5.0.5's subdued growl inquires through the receiver.  
  
"Hi there, my little furball~!" You greet in the amicable tone you've become accustomed to using when speaking to him, but still try to keep your voice down, sounding odd even to yourself when you're out here in the middle of a bright crowded shopping center and not in a dark enormous hall.    
  
"Rharh!!" Almost immediately he responds with relief and a tinge of desperation in his growl, making you grimace with guilt.  
  
"Hey buddy, hey... I'm, I'm sorry I left without saying good-bye! But listen, I'll be back-and... and I'm okay too so don't worry! I came to see my own parents, that's all!" You reassure the gentle bear, soothing his concerns.  
  
"Ohwr, rhwo brrh?"  
  
"It'll only be a couple of more days!" Silence and then confused growling. "That's two suns from now, buddy." You simplify for him, repressing the laughter that bubbles up in your chest. "I'll make it up to you, okay?"  
  
He sounds much better now. "Whrarhw!" You can picture him smiling at the archaic spider-phone that scuttles throughout the Manor. "Rgawg~!"  
  
"That's my bear! I gotta go now, 5.0.5. And no more crying, I don't want you to get in trouble because of that, got it?" He replies with an confirming growl. "Okay, take care!" You notice your parents have wondered off to a stand of canvas printed paintings. "Can you pass the phone to the Doctor? And sorry again! Okay... okay, bye!"  
  
An indignant 'told you she was fine, silly' could be over before Dr. Flug was back on the line. "Yes?"  
  
"Doctor, pardon me for saying so, but I think you should try spending a bit more time with 5.0.5, at least in the morning since I'm not there right now." You rest your elbow on the palm of your hand, feeling a bit defensive over 5.0.5. You are almost sure he wouldn't get like that if he had more company around, friendly company to be more exact.    
  
"What, are you Social Services now? We bought out their building last month, I'll have you know. And I'm a busy scientist, 5.0.5 understands!" Your smile is wry iin a tight line while closing your eyes and taking a long deep breath.  
  
"5.0.5 is too nice to make any demands of you, Doctor. All I'm saying is that 5.0.5 should spend more time with you in the meantime if you don't want him to invariably get in trouble with the Boss."  
  
A huff. "I make no promises."  
  
"Okay," This will have to do so you exhale, then in a lighter tone. "I hope everything else is going well, Doctor. Do you want me to bring you back anything?" An offering to dissipate the awkward conversation you had with him last.  
  
"No." Comes the curt reply. Well, so much for that.  
  
"Okay then, I'll see you later, Doctor." He hangs up first without a reply. You look a at the phone slightly frazzled, but then slump your shoulders down. No use in getting angry, this is your time off after all.  
  
"Everything well, hun?" Your dad asks when you walk back to them.  
  
"Yeah, just work stuff..." Your mother notices your change in mood and rubs light circles on your back with the palm of her hand, but does not ask anything else. You missed that.  
  
"Let's head home then, _Corazón_."  
  
.............................................................................................  
  
It was late afternoon when you got back and looked up from your phone to find that your father had already parked the car on the street as your mother's own car already occupied the garage front. You paid no mind, but then noticed from the periphery of your vision that Mr. Lovern's own garage was opened while a dark blue sports car with graphic yellow lightning bolts at its side was neatly parked half-way into his garage. That car wasn't there that morning.  
  
Your father went on ahead to unlock the door carrying most of the heavy bags and boxes, while your mom and you trailed behind chatting.  
  
"Good Afternoon there, neighbors!" It was Mr. Lovern's voice calling out, emerging from his garage as he stood waving at your mother and you. His friendly demeanor never changing since the first time you met him, although the greys in his hair had grown as well as the weathered wrinkles on his face. "I see your girl finally graced y'all with her presence!"  
  
"Uh, hi Mr. Lovern, long time no see!" You call back, returning the wave as your mom does the same. "Good to see you're doing well!"  
  
"My old bones are still in one piece, is all I can ask for at this point, darlin'." His thick southern accent is just as lively and warm as you remember. "Ya look prettier than before, girly!"  
  
You laugh, accepting the compliment in good humor. "Oh stop! I see you're doing pretty well yourself, even traded in 'Old Bertha' and got yourself a new car and everything!"  
  
"Well, they say age is only but a number, child. But that there 's not m' car, that's Ryan's car."

Oh.

"He went t'run some errands for me an'... an' I do believe that's the sound of Old Bertha I hear comin' down the road." A familiar old broken-down farmer's white truck makes a turn at the corner of the street approaching with its characteristic loud sputtering motor.  
  
"Um..." You start walking toward the house but your mother elbows you to stay while blocking your path, still smiling at the approaching car. So you change your tactic. "Mama, aren't your arms getting tired with all those bags? Here, let me help you!" You lean down to pry the shopping bags from her hands. "Aha ha ha! Mother, you're so **stubborn** sometimes, don't overexert yourself!" You say through gritted teeth, begging for mercy yet still she doesn't budge. Also, where's your dad? Wait, no- that would make it even worse for you, you nervously muse while looking down at the pavement below.  
  
There's the sound of the truck coming to a stop, of the driver's door opening and slamming shut followed by heavy footsteps on the paved driveway.  
  
"Boy, that took ya more than if I'd had just gone th're m'self!"  
  
"Sorry, Uncle. Hit traffic on the way back, it's the weekend and all." You hear a low youthful voice reply. Your hands are sweating at this point as you stay frozen in place, your mind at a loss in what else to do to escape.  
  
"And where are yer manners, boy?! Greet the neighbors!" Or don't, that's totally fine with you.  
  
" _Ay_ , Mr. Lovern! Don't be so harsh on the poor kid, we can see that he's got his hands full too."  
  
"No he's right, my apologies. Good afternoon, Mrs-"  
  
Crap, you've been spotted. You know you've been spotted and now you've got no choice but to say 'Hello' and actually socialize with this young man. This young hero. It seems there's no avoiding this now, so you come back up to meet the fabled Ryan for the first time in a long while.  
  
And what greets you is the sight of a fit young man of considerable height, carrying a box of tools on his exposed arms. He wears a navy colored t-shirt with cut off sleeves that emphasize the wide width of his sculpted shoulders and matching fitted black exercise pants, contrasting with his plain white sneakers. A strong square jaw and cheek bones gives him an air of manliness, fitting with his blue eyes framed by long thick lashes and a strong heavy gaze. However, boyish peach colored freckles pepper the bridge of his nose and cheeks giving him away to an air of liveliness and youth betraying his serious intense stare. Dense dark thick eyebrows are all the more prominent when compared to the blonde soft curls of his hair which hang loosely over his forehead in a closely cropped military fade hairstyle. The sharp curves of his cupid's bow sit atop his upper lip and quickly go from a slight gape of brief surprise to an almost undetectable smile.  
  
You stand there a bit stunned as well, it seems he went through quite the growth spurt since the last time you saw him.  
  
"Uh-hm, hi!" You forcefully greet, acting like you were not about to sprint inside the house and lock the door behind--which you still want to do, but might as well get this out of the way first.  
  
"Hello." Comes the even toned greeting accompanied by a cool stiff nod, before he sets the tool box down on the ground, wiping the palms of his hands before leaning over the fence to first shake your mother's hand and then yours. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" He says, looking at you from underneath fluttering lashes.  
  
"Yeah..." Your smile, a tight line. His hands are calloused and large compared to yours, the afternoon light at his back makes his hair shine in a fiery halo of red amber.

You can feel your mother looking on with a wide smug grin, moving her gaze from Ryan's face to yours. "You've grown quite a bit." You say as an understatement while doing your best to ignore her prying stare.

 "You look amazing." He says in a matter-of-fact kind of way that completely takes you off guard. Sputtering a little and trying to keep up with the situation, you barely manage to thank him for the compliment.

"Okay, you can let 'em go now before ya drill holes into the poor girl wit'yer stare." Comes Mr. Lovern's voice over the fence.

Ryan quickly whips around to quietly glare at his uncle, your mom only laughs.

"Oh! Hey there, Ryan! Didn't know you were visiting today!" That's your father's voice now, coming from inside the house. "'Afternoon, Lovern." He nods towards the older man at the garage door. "Why you don't both of you come join us for dinner? It's so rare to have the young ones coincide on a visit!"

So much worse.

"Ehem! Dad, I have plans for later in the evening with my friends." You hated contradicting your parents in front of other people, but you really needed to get out of this anyway you could.

"Well, all the better! You can take Ryan with you! I'm sure he'd love to go out and party with you... All." What the heck, this isn't like before when you were in middle school and had the horde of younger kids tag along to the park during neighborhood gatherings.

"Father, don't you think it's kind of rude to make plans for him without even asking?" You muster with all the patience you have left for this nonsense.

"I have no plans for later tonight." Ryan helpfully informs, you almost a glare at him for that.

"Well, there you go, _mi'ja_." Your mom reassures as you. "Okay, Mr Lovern, we'll get dinner started, just ring when you're ready!"

You smile and wave before going inside, angry at your parents for roping you into this.

............................................................................................................

Your mother ended up inviting a few more friends over and what was supposed to be a simple neighborly dinner turned into a small backyard gathering. You could not begrudge them for that in the end, happy as they were to finally have you after weeks without a visit from you. Your mom plays lively music from the radio, chattering away and showing off her brand new cookware to her friends. Your dad mans the grill with Mr. Lovern, engaged in deep conversation about grilling methods as you sit on the wide porch swing hung onto a sturdy tree off to the side of the yard, beer in hand.

As it turns out Ryan, you observe while taking a swing from the beer and with no small amount of smugness, ended up becoming the center of attention after the new cookware demonstration. You are eternally grateful for this, as this keeps him busy answering all the questions that your mother's guests throw at him.

"But did you hear what happened to Sea Port Plaza? Barbaric! The whole place was turned into an icicle! And what's worse the ice could not be even touched since according to the news people, it was made of toxic..." You tuned out the conversation, focusing instead on the sound of the music and on your father's thrilling cooking conversation, taking another drink from the beer bottle- hoping it dulls the heavy feeling in your gut.

After a few minutes, a shift in the weight of the swing startles you. Ryan has come to join you, soda in hand and seemingly intent on engaging you in conversation.

"Hey." He says an arm, slung over the back of the swing, his built frame making you feel crowded in the small space of the 3 person swing. The early evening light makes the intense blue of his eyes stand out all the more, and you concede a reserved smile.

"So, Thunder-Strike, huh?" You mildly comment.

"Yeah, The League came up with the name after I could not come up with something that did not sound completely ridiculous." He admits, using one of his feet to start pushing the swing in a soft sway.

You recall the last time you saw him. You were already entering your Junior year of high school when Mr. Lovern's family made a block party to announce who the newly discovered hero in the Lovern family was. You stood there, among the crowd of neighbors, friends, and relatives when Ryan's name was called and he went up to be congratulated and then to earnestly make the oath to protect and serve his community. You applauded alongside the others as well, believing in the resolve of his words despite his tiny height and scrawny built at the time and even after you and your other friend had bailed him out of many scuffles prior. Though you remained hopeful that he would come into his own eventually. That same night, before he was shipped off to start the hero prep course, he made a beeline to you and hugged you tightly in his twiggy arms, thanking you for being a great friend. You had to lean down to return the hug then and thought of him only as the cutest little brother you never had, wishing him the best. Life continued on for you and you moved on with other things- other people, friends and your own goals. The thought of ever seeing him again as an actual hero only an afterthought buried at the back of your mind.

Who would have thunk.

"I'm sure, you could have come up with something cooler." You say thinking of him when he was younger and his vast collection of comic book heroes and figurines.

"I doubt it." He says now. "So what have you been up to recently? I am sorry for not keeping in contact after I left." He says, a serious stare directed at the ground.

"Oh, don't sweat it! I know how it is for you." You wave him off. "And not much. I'm mainly busy with work." You take one last big gulp of beer at that.

"I see." He shifts in the swing, and you sense there's something else he wanted to say.

"You know, you don't have to come hang out with me if you have stuff to do. Don't feel obliged just because my parents are asking you to come."

"No, it's not tha--unless you don't want me to come?" A straight shooter through and through- you remember that part about him, which earned him a lot of the many aforementioned fights with the school and local bullies, many fights which he did not win. And though that was indeed the case, saying it out loud sounded kind of messed up now.

"No, no! It's not that! It's just that I figured you'd have plans with your partner or something, and I don't want to get in the way of that--because you _do_ have a someone, don't you?!" You almost plead. _Please have a someone, please have a someone, please have a someone..._

"I don't." Of course! Of course you don't!

"Whaaat?! A guy like you with a fancy car like that and _no one_ hanging off your shoulder? Now _that's_ amazing!" You slap your knee in exaggerated nervous disbelief. However, that really made no sense to you, a guy like this... usually the young hero types never lacked a warm body to sleep with, but okay. Who knows, who are you to judge.

But still.

"How come?"

"I already have someone I want." He drinks from his carbonated drink, voice laced with quiet confidence.

Oh, okay!

That works out really well for you then, if he already has his sights on somebody else then that foils your parents' ridiculous plans to get you with him. Already feeling smug and ready to give them a big 'told you so.' You continue with the conversation encouraging him in his romantic endeavor, you drawl "Well, that must be niiiice!  I'm sure they'll be extremely lucky to have you." You pat him on the back.

"How about you? Do you have someone?" He abruptly asks, stopping the swing to lean forward over his knees, blue eyes staring straight ahead.

"No, not at the moment." You say truthfully, relieved to know his interests lay elsewhere.

He gets up from the swing then, taking a last drink of his soda, his back to you as he looks up at the evening sky. He says something under his breath you don't quite catch, before the vibration and ringing of your phone alerts you of a new message from one your friends.

[ hey love. we'll pick you up in an hour. be ready! ]

 

..................................................................................................

 

Loud honking and blaring music plays from your friend's car. Hooting, cat calls, and calls for your name come from the opened windows of the medium sized car. Yup, your friends have arrived. You come out wearing a strapless asymmetrical short number you got earlier today, deciding to wear it unsure of when you'll have another chance to use it. You styled your hair is a side-swept do as it was all you had time to put together in the limited time you had.  The ruckus increases when they see you come out the front door.

"Oh Girl You still have it going _ON_!" Yells your friend sitting at the co-pilot seat.

You do a little mock catwalk for them and a twirl to humor them even more, laughing when someone throws you their wallet as a joke as the racket continues. However, when you go to pick it up, they suddenly quiet down when they see someone else emerging from the house.

"Aren't you forgetting something, _mi'ja_?" That's your mom standing at the door's frame with her brown woolly sweater on, looking very matronly. 

"Good evening, Mrs. Mom!" The car's occupants chime in unison and turn down the music when they see her at the door and you turn to face her. Your mom responds with a wave, breaking her 'serious mom facade' to laugh at their silly antics. She had indeed played a motherly role in their lives at some point or another during your friendship with them. They regarded her with respect and love, which your mom returned in any way she could.

"Sorry, Mama." You went up to her to give her a kiss on the cheek before saying bye.

"And?" She holds your hand, looking straight at you.

"Aww, c'mon!" The look of her eyes remains the same. "Ugh. Okay, fine- Ryan, let's go! We're leaving!!" You yell towards the house,  your voice carrying over to the backyard and you hear you friends whisper among themselves. 'Ryan? What Ryan? You don't think...'

Moments later he comes out, slightly ducking under the door's frame and unto the front entrance.

'No. Freaking. Way!!' Someone inside the car bellows and then an audible 'Ow' is heard right after, probably from being nudged into decorum by somebody else inside the van.

Your mom kisses him good-bye on the cheek too before she finally releases you both into the night. Everyone else waves to her while she blows them kisses from the entrance door under the porch light as the volume of the music is turned up again as you and Ryan approach the car. it's a tight squeeze but you all manage. And of course the questioning descends upon you almost immediately when the mini van starts up again.

"Oh. My. Gosh! Lady, why didn't you tell you were gonna bring someone else along?!" That's one of the two close friends you made during a summer job you took at the local mall, you returned the wallet to her. The only good things to come out of working at the juice bar stand. "We would have made more pregame margaritas!"

"Hey man, you come from the most recent batch of licensed heroes, huh?" Your friend fixes his thick framed glasses after the inquiry, peering at you both with curiosity. This is the other good former co-worker from the juice stand. He happened to be visiting as well from university, he hands you a margarita poured inside a disposable clear plastic cup with straw slotted lid, the cheerfully colored straw sticking out of the lid. "You guys can share." He adds, ever the slave to practicality.

"Is, is he _the_ Ryan Lovern? As in Thunder-Strike, Ryan Lovern? I mean I knew you were neighbors with someone form their family, but..." That's your other friend from the after-school program in high school which you had to take after failing Algebra II for the second time. You can see her gawking at him in awe from her corner at the back of the car.

"How long were going to hold out on us, huh? Not cool and here I am thinking communication was established again." Your childhood friend waves her phone from the front seat, huffing and indignant. Though truly, you had forgotten to mention it before.

"Is he the little pipsqueak we dug out of the gutter that one time after school? And the other time we beat up 'Knuckle Sandwich' when he was thrown into the creek at the Park?" That's her girlfriend, very tall and intimidating girlfriend. The low cadence of her voice comes from the driver's seat. Still donning her signature undercut hairstyle since middle school as well as the imposing aura she came to be known for. Being the tallest kid in school to boot, many other children would avoid her because of this; you were just lucky enough to get to know her after working on an assigned project together, which ended up in you introducing her to your other friend later on. "And that other time-"

"Okay, okay, okay!" You hold up your hand to stop the barrage of questioning. Ryan remained quiet the entire time, probably feeling a little overwhelmed. "This is Ryan, my neighbor's nephew. Yes, that one Ryan Lovern. I didn't tell you guys he was coming along, because well, I forgot! And was a last minute arrangement. I'm sorry. He indeed became a licensed hero like, what, a month ago I think?" You look at him questioning, he nods with a ghost of a smile on his face. "We haven't seen each other in a long time but we are only friends, so don't get the wrong idea and be nice to him... and, and that's all I guess."

"Nice to make your acquaintance." He takes the opportunity to reach out and shake everyone's hand with a polite smile while you take a sip from the cup. You think you'll need more than one drink to relax for the rest of the night as the enthusiastic chatter starts up again.

The ride was a repetition of the dinner get-together when it came to the topic of conversation. You are actually kind of happy to have this be the distraction instead of them asking about your job in Hatsville Island at the so called 'international conglomerate' you made up in a moment of panic. You rehearsed the answer to their possible questions a second time in your head anyway, just in case someone asks.

The line to the club was long, reaching almost the corner of the block but thankfully advanced quickly and smoothly until it was your group's turn to go in. When everyone presented their ID's to be let in, Ryan was held up by the bouncer. "Twenty-one and over, son."

What? Was he not 21 at least? Crap, you forgot to ask how old he actually was, belatedly remembering him being younger than you.

 "Oh, sorry. Here, give me one second." The bouncer looks impatient as Ryan begins digging through his other fitted pant pocket, coming up with a grey ID flip case. Flipping it open, he shows it to the no-nonsense man at the door. The man's eyes widen before he pulls out a little flashlight to examine the item more closely, a second later he returns ID and lets Ryan through with a "You know the rules, son, but have fun anyway."

"What was that? Also, how old are you?" You ask as he approaches the group, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"I'm twenty. Sorry, I forgot to mention." He says, looking apologetic.

"What! And they let you through?!" One of your friends asks, incredulous.

"Hero perk."

He says flashing the identification inside the flip case. It is an ID like any other, only difference is the official looking insignias alongside the Hero Alias. There are several emblematic designs which you've seen on the news before; an array of fierce looking animals with flags, initials of this and that other defense department. And the simplified graphic image of a gridded globe with the world's continents as a valiant pair of solid geometric wings complete with an eagle's tail emerging from the globe's center, encasing it and stretching upward as if to get momentum for flight, a set of three brave stars rests atop of the world as the last touch to the emblem. 

"That's..." You stiffly begin to say, "very... cool..." And everyone else at your back agrees impressed.

"I am allowed entrance to many different venues I would not otherwise, under the condition I don't consume any intoxicating beverages." He explains.

"Of course." Your tall friend comments. "Wouldn't want their golden boy to soil their pristine image in a moment of recklessness. But no worries, my man, we'll buy 'em for you if you want."

Your other friend hangs from her left arm with a conspiratory smile on her lips, reminding you of someone with mismatched green-red hair and an almost equal taste for thrills.  "We got you!" She winks.

You're about to turn to tell them to behave thinking that Mr. Lovern will undoubtedly hate you for debouching his nephew or something if he were to actually get home drunk, but Ryan only laughs it off joining your group of friends in finally entering the night club. The booming sound of the music and bright lights surrounds you along with the swarm of bodies, closely packed and moving with the rhythm of the songs. It had been a while, you think distracted, looking around and enjoying the feeling of release as you made your way through the crowd with your friends. Your body slowly warming up with the heat of other people, and you are thankful you picked this dress you wear for the occasion.

Someone grabs your hand, it's Ryan pulling you closer to him mouthing to 'stay close' to which you loudly respond, 'I know where I'm going.' But he just continues to guide you toward your friends.

With some difficulty your group manages to claim a table close to the bar and to the dance floor, they waste no time taking advantage of this location and the drinks immediately start pouring in. Ryan, surprisingly enough, accepts a beer from your Algebra II buddy. You order at the counter of the bar a martini which he pays for despite your complaints. Upon your return, almost everyone is moving to the rhythm of a remix of the latest trending song of the moment. The first to join the dance floor are the couple of the group after finishing two fast rounds of drinks, they blend in with the rest of the patrons among the hazy darkness and lights. Moments later you are pulled by your other friends to dance and this time, already feeling buzzed from the previous drinks you readily agree, but not before pulling Ryan along.

"C'mon!" You might as well have him try to enjoy this too.

His striking looks earn him the attention of several girls and a few guys as they move into his personal space in an attempt dance with him. He looks slightly lost, and you find this adorable as he looks to you for guidance. You shrug, still dancing and helpless to do anything so you just shout for him to have fun as he gets swallowed up by the crowd and you return to dance with your circle of friends. It'll do him good to mingle with other people, after all. At some point, a pair of hands gets a hold of your waist and a random guy offers to buy you a drink. He's easy on the eyes, so you accept - going for a quick Yeager bomb before coming back to the dance floor when Latin music starts playing, feeling pleasantly buzzed while putting your arms around the young man's shoulders as he guides the rhythm of your steps to the drums of the music. Looking around the dance floor to check on your friends, you notice most of them have already paired up with someone and only one has returned to watch over the table, while they browse on their phone with a drink in hand.

Everything is good with the world tonight. You take a deep breath through your nose sighing content when the smell of expensive cologne hits you, instantly triggering the flashing image of bright green fangs drenched in florescent slobber. You pull back immediately, perturbed and excuse yourself to go sit for a bit explaining that your feet hurt, thus escaping your dance partner's hands.

However, you did not expect to see Ryan back at the table as well, looking pensive when he sees you return with yet another drink in hand - this time it was a gin tonic to help you ease your rattled nerves some more. Your mind becomes preoccupied with this instead since you get the feeling he is uncomfortable sitting there despite your friend's company, and even if the blank expression reveals nothing of his actual mood. Maybe it was a mistake to bring him along after all.

"Hey there, are you alright?" You practically yell and he nods in return. His expression, however, still remains the same. "You sure?" You try again.

He nods again, that was a lie and you could tell. "You don't look like you're enjoying yourself. What happened to your new friends?" You just wanted to know that he was okay.

"I did not like them." He admits into your ear as you go to sit down next to him. Figures.

You're not irritated even if it sounds that way, you just felt guilty for bringing him along and then have him _hate_ the entire experience for some obscure reason you were unaware of! Well, okay. so maybe there was a bit of misplaced irritation there. "Ryan, why did you come if you were not gonna try to have fun?"

He turns to eye you then, intense electric blue under the soft curl of his hair. He leans over to gently take the glass of gin out of your hand before putting his lips over the shell of your ear.

"I came because I wanted to spend time with you."

The mild slant of thick eyebrows tells you he's serious when he sits back. His committed expression takes you back to the time, countless nights ago when standing before everyone - and still a child then, bowed to become an outstanding hero; to protect, serve and bring honor to the town.

"You're the one I-"

"I-I gotta go use the restroom!" Unsure that he even heard you when you get up to retreat into the nearest restroom at the far end of the club.

So when he said he already had someone in mind, he meant-

Crap, crap, crap. Now what? What do you do now? Your panicked hand subconsciously searches for the black metal button on your neck that's not there, when a couple of your friends walk in to see you leaning on the sink. They immediately hover over you and you've no choice but to reassure them that everything is fine, that you just got a bit tipsy and came to freshen up. After many reassurances, they get you to come back out again into the floor after using the restroom themselves, cutting the time to put your thoughts together short, judgment further muddled by the alcohol coursing through your system.

Upon your return, you see the other half of friends attempting to chat with Ryan over the loud club music, and you're a little relieved to find that he finally seems to be happy as he's shoved in jest by one of your friends, chuckling and apparently at ease after his confession, sobering expression gone from his handsome features. Okay, now you just felt bad for the guy and everyone else as they seem to be warming up to him, and you find that you could not bring yourself to ruin the night by turning him down now, thus making things awkward for the rest. Besides, he'd been decent company so far; despite the flashy hero title, nice car and 'hero perks' - he, as it turns out, did not let that get to his head as you've heard happen to many like him, and has actually remained a pretty decent guy - proper and polite, withstanding the barrage of attention he'd gotten throughout the night from your friends and family acquaintances. Maybe he earned himself some of your time at the very least, one night couldn't hurt, you could talk to him tomorrow morning, no big deal- he's a big boy, he could handle it! Tonight you should have fun!

Already feeling better, you smile down at him, grabbing his hand amid teasing whistles from the rest of the group. "Dance with me!"

He looks surprised at first, but soon his mouth breaks into a white-toothed grin as you walk with him to the dance floor. He easily moves with you once at the center of the floor, the heat of his body radiating to your own in the cramped distance that you both share. His hands splayed over your hips while you chase the rhythm of the music alongside everyone in the flashing lights of the club. He leaned down to place him mouth next to your ear once more, an arm at your waste to keep you flushed to his frame even in the fast paced booming rhythm of the music.

"I've waited a long time to see you again, ever since I left." He confesses one more time. "Worked really hard so that you wouldn't have to dig me out of a dumpster again like when we were younger. That was humiliating." You snigger, not quite sure anyone else would believe you if you or your friend were to tell this story now. "Yeah, laugh it up." He says, even as he chuckles to then continue, voice suddenly low and serious again.

"But how about now, what do you think of me now?"

"I-I, don't..." You close your eyes and swallow through the knot in lodged in your throat, well aware you should not be here with him in the first place. "I don't know yet, Ryan." You answer defeated and unprepared, unable formulate a white lie to embellish the the truth, so for now so you only answer with this instead.

"I know you'll come like me soon too." His earnest voice carries over even in the hectic beats of music around you. You laugh as a reply to cover up the uneasy feeling forming at the pit of your stomach and try to dismiss that as only boyish overconfidence, and not some promised endeavor he's about to undertake. You continue to carry on in silence for a while longer, losing track of time as song after song transitions into the other.

The moment is interrupted by a sudden loud booming sound that shakes the entire building, it was not a sound made by the DJ up on stage as the music comes to an abrupt halt and the strobe lights shut off engulfing everyone in darkness. Murmurs of uncertainty and heckling whistles are heard for a few seconds. Ryan wonders what could be going on out loud as you feel a protective arm encircle you, a sense of duty taking over him.

And then panicked screaming is heard.

Distant at first and then progressively louder.

It came from outside, it came from the streets.

A second booming wave shakes the building for a second time, however, this time is more severe than the last as the sound equipment and the overheard lights shake with the blast. At this point, people start hastily existing the building thinking it could be the warning signs of a natural disaster. When you and your friends once again regroup and begin to close in on the exit, a panicked man shouts loudly enough for everyone still inside to hear.

"DOWNTOWN IS UNDER ATTACK!! A VILLAIN IS ATTACKING!! A VILLAIN IS ATTACKING!!!!"

[At this moment power is restored and the music playing minutes prior blares from the night club speakers as pandemonium breaks loose.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vdS6FMB2620)

The narrow exit is suddenly crowded with more people than before as they rush to leave, your heart starts pounding faster also scared more for everyone's safety running over each other inside than for whatever threat is outside. Ryan, is no longer at your side when you try to find him. But you soon spot him at the club's far end wall - the one facing the street - as he pulls back his hand in a tight fist and smashes it onto the wall, immediately crumbling it into smithereens the moment it makes contact with his knuckles. Everyone takes this opportunity to run away now with a wider room to do so without trampling over each other. Some guys and girls take a quick second to thank Ryan as they scramble past him, he merely nods in response before extending an arm out towards you. You take a hold of one of your friend's hands forming a human chain as you wade your through the crowd and towards him. You've sobered up by now.

"Ryan, that was fucking dope!" Someone shouts from behind.

"We need to leave!" You say alarmed and now aware of the incoming threat.

He agrees as he starts guiding all of you away alongside the oncoming rush of people, the flash of lights from the news helicopters sweep the streets reporting on the mayhem and chaos. A shrill beeping noise is heard in front of you and you manage to see Ryan bring up his watch up to his face, the face of a serious looking man appears on the small screen and he begins speaking with Ryan. You don't quite catch what Ryan responds before the small screen abruptly shows the logo from the Department of Defense, connection ended. He stops at an intersection and turns around and face you all.

"I have to stay." He states, visage determined amid the panicked commotion.

"What?!" You hear yourself blurt out.

"You guys need to keep moving straight ahead to the Community Park, that's where the nearest Evac Center is. There you will be safe until the threat has been managed or neutralized." He begins walking back to the direction you were all running away from just moments before.

"No! You're crazy!" You go to grab his arm to pull him with you. "You're coming with us!"

Another booming earthquake is heard and a three story building two blocks away falls as your grasp on him tightens. Worry and a feeling of protectiveness suddenly seize you the same way it did back in the day when you would see him getting beat up at the local park, thick framed glasses often and invariably breaking in two when you did not get there fast enough to help him in time.

"Babydoll, listen to him." You feel your tall schoolmate put her hands on your shoulder to get you to come along. "He has to stay, he's a big boy now- and hero at that- he can handle himself, this time _we_ are the ones that have to leave to let him get to work." Her voice calm and logical, finally soothes your worry with reason as Ryan takes a hold of your hand to give it one last reassuring squeeze.

You're letting go when a loud crashing bang is heard, glass windows from surrounding buildings shatter to pieces and the alarms of several vehicles are activated blaring incessantly all over the streets. The heavy street manhole covers fly in the air pushed up by a strong influx of pressurized water. The sudden sound of a deluge comes down the street before the image of an actual tsunami wave is seen barreling down the street at full force. A pale, blue and black figure is cackling with laughter at the peak of the wave smugly riding it with a white surfboard. Your heart drops to your stomach recognizing the man instantly, having browsed through the Organization's Loyalty List of client profiles:

It is Dark Phantom.

He wears a pair of glowing aquamarine gloves of massive size over both hands, while enthusiastically moving them as if directing an orchestra advancing through wide avenue. Luckily, he notices all of you standing on the street and makes a motion with his hands to stop the wave's destructive path, and while the wave does come to a halt, the water continues to foam and splash as he goes to peer down at all of you in obvious distaste and an air of malicious curiosity.

"Wow, lookie here! A group of young party-goers, too stupid or too drunk to run away! You'll make for a nice assortment of hostages!" His voice haughty and self-assured until Ryan moves forward to stand between your group and the villain atop the body of water.

"Not so fast, you foul criminal! You're not the only one with fancy toys at your disposal!"

He bravely shouts from where he stands in the middle of the street, and had you been in any other situation you would have surely rolled your eyes at the corniness of the exchange, but now you watch as he slams the palm of his hand somewhere over the center of his clavicle and the vambraces - which you hadn't even noticed he was wearing - under his long sleeved shirt come to life, burning up the material over the clothes he wore in a searing golden light to reveal the dark alloy-like fabric encasing his fit body. The dress shoes, were actually knee-high boots that changed color from black to a bright yellow in the span of milliseconds. The necklace hidden under his clothes form a steel collar adheres to his neck and extends up to his ears to form winged lightning spikes behind each ear. The back of his head is also covered by the versatile metal that ends its reach in forming a slanted protective shield styled goggles over his eyes. Okay, that was actually really impressive from up close, but your friends are now dragging you away to go stand behind an abandoned car for protection. A few helicopters now hover over the city trying to get a better shot of the conflict down below, you are relieved that the car was parked by a large newsstand as its plastic roof concealed your face from the lights and cameras in the sky, fearing the consequences in store for you more than the immediate ramifications of the battle taking place right in front of you.

Dark Phantom then shouts from up above. "Oh ho ho! A hero, eh? Now this is just what I needed to try my new little gadget, engineered by yours truly!"

Several sharp needle like streams are directed toward the young hero delivered through a flick of his wrist, narrowly missing their mark when Ryan- no, Thunder-Strike- propels himself off the ground with a powerful thrust up and toward the skyline. The force of the lunge creates a strong gust of wind blinding you all for a moment. You expected to see him come back down after the jump but then someone is shouting and pointing up. Thunder-Strike's boots have ignited with small blue flamed propellers coming down from the soles of his boots.

"Ha! Do you think flying will save you from my Jet Stream Blasts!" Phantom Dark taunts as he makes several jabbing motions towards Thunder-Strike. He responds by bringing up his forearm, the metal from his brace shifts and expands to create a golden metal shield, deterring the blasts.

At this moment, your phone begins to ring and vibrate inside your purse. Thinking it could be one of your parents you go to answer without even looking at the number on the screen, your eyes glued to the scene. "Hel- "

"Hey," it's Demencia. Why is she calling now? "Flug wanted me to ask how you managed the- the, what?" Muffled shouting is heard in the background. Your lovely Supervisor, sure had a knack to call in the most inopportune moments, also it was 1 AM, what the hell!

"Oh. He's asking how you managed the invoice organizer because he doesn't understand it now since you took over it from him." She ends, sounding slightly bored while loudly chewing on something. You do not want to know what it could be.

But you do pinch your nose in mild irritation. "Tell him that he should call me himself next time." She laughs at this, before humming to encourage you to go on. "And that the Invoice organizer has simply been rearranged into alphabetical since it made more sense to have it like that instead of the order in which the clients were _signed onto to the Organization_ _because **nobody** freakingremembersthatotherthanhimandtheBoss!_" You say almost yelling into the phone, drawing a few glances from your friends crouching behind the car.

"Dude, they're calling you from work right now?" Juice Bar friend asks in disbelief.

You smile apologetically, signaling with a finger you'll be done in a moment. "Good night now. I'm kind of in the middle of something."

"Ooohh~ So you're awake right now!" Obviously, you want to say. "Okay, turn on the News, there's a Hero-Villain fight live on right now!" She says bringing another of whatever it is she's eating to her mouth. "My money is the Phantom guy, but Flug says the Hero will win because science and Phantom always makes half-assed weapons, you know his usual bs."

"Oh yeah...?" You look up just in time to see Ryan deflect the last barrage of piercing water needle attacks with his shield.

"You should have done more Research and Development on your toy or maybe you were simply just unlucky to have run into me tonight, as water is a great conductor of electricity!!" Thunder-Strike's palms begin to glow with sparks of blue and yellow light, the pupils of his eyes are no longer visible though the visor as his eyes started emitting the same bright light coming from his hands. The air in the area becomes charged with humidly and static energy making his golden hair move and flow as if underwater, the image identical to classic painting of a mythological warrior endowed with divine power. Dark Phantom now worn down after the barrage of multiple attacks can do little more than to stare up at the hero suspended midair, dumbfounded to see that his ill-conceived weapon did nothing to harm the young hero.

"I gotta go, Demencia." You numbly say, sliding your finger onto the screen, enraptured by the developing scene. His clear, righteous voice is heard loud and clear above any other noise around you.

"THUNDER STRIKE!"

The hero brings both balls of lighting together forming an even bigger electric orb before swiftly releasing it with a powerful force onto the shocked villain below.

Huh, so that's why that Hero Alias was chosen.

A white flash of pure light swallows your field of vision, closing your eyes and looking away does nothing to prevent you from the momentary blindness, the crackling sound and deafening explosion echoes throughout the city and in the night sky. The other sound rising above the explosion is the pained scream coming from Dark Phantom as the blast hits its target..

Moments pass and you open your eyes to feel a warm wet sensation grazing your ankles, you look down to see that it is water. The water that was previously controlled by Dark Phantom is finally released and now flooded over the avenue in an artificially made stream from the downtown pier nearby. Thunder-Strike slowly descends again, as a flood of police agency helicopters and personnel also come down as well to take the inert form of Phantom into custody. Paramedics crowd Ryan to make sure he's okay and to also take the fallen villain's vitals, one of them nods towards a high ranking looking officer who gives the order to take him on a stretcher to the nearest hospital for recovery and detainment. Then he turns to the young hero you guess for a debrief of what occurred tonight. Reporters flock in their vans to the scene, eager to be the first to get a first hand account and statement from the police- but mostly to get to the hero himself. Your friends, cannot stop taking pictures, already bragging on social media of their front row seats to the superhero action.

You slump down again onto the sidewalk, drained and exhausted, watching your ruined beige stilettos and sore feet soak in the flooding water from the pier- you almost miss the comfortable black pumps from the Organization... Your thoughts are interrupted when your name is called and see Ryan trotting up to you, escaping the swarm of reporters surrounding him.

"Are you alright?" He leans down to check on you.

"That was so cool, Ryan!" You muster one last shred of enthusiasm for the deserving hero. "My feet are just tired, that's all." You smile up at him. "I just need a few minutes and I'll-"

You don't get to finish when he suddenly kneels down to gather you in his arms, pulling you up to carry you bridal style. Your friends don't miss the opportunity to heckle you both, the whole thing was so cheesy and mortifying and you want to dig up a whole to bury yourself in, but they- and the reporters just eat it up! You have time to hide your face in the crook or Ryan's neck while flinging your arms over his shoulders, using them to shield you from the reporter's cameras and the cheering applause from the officers around. You want to jump out of his arms and run away as far away as you can from him, but instead you hold on to him even tighter for security.

"Hero Thunder-Strike, one last statement for the press regarding today's events!" A reporter is heard through the commotion.

He stands up a bit straighter then, squaring his shoulders with all the overconfidence in the world, and bravely declares his message to the many avid readers and viewers tuning in into the broadcast and live feeds. 

 

"Evil will prosper no more!"

 

And the crowd goes wild.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long to update! Had some stuff going, but I should be churning out another chapter this month. Honestly, writing this fic felt like casting out a line and hook to pull in the plot! But we're getting there. Hhm 'kay And apologies for any typoes  
> A lot of hero stuff and system is a lot speculation from my part at this point based on the information we've gathered, but I'm kinda hoping it aligns with my fic when it is released lol  
> Also aren't you all just so sad we didn't get an Orientation Video this week??!!!! I was kinda of hoping to replenish my supply of cannon character personality and info  
> so sad  
> Tell me what you thought of this one, I know it lacks a lot of cannon character content, but we'll get there I promise!  
> And you guys can totes request little drabbles of Assistant fics, i'm totes down for that! Just not anything too saucy, we don't want to spoil your appetite lol
> 
> Comments and Kudos give me strength, don't forget!


	11. Your Time is Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News travel fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter contains some nsfw content so rating has gone up, please keep this in mind.

_"I said I was **fine**!! You didn't have to carry me!"_

The Black Hat Organization 'Pocket Watch' is neatly set over soft light blankets at the center of your tiny twin bed, right next to your cellphone which remained unnervingly silent since your arrival back home, a couple of excruciatingly long hours have come and gone since. The light from the half-moon high above accompanied by the occasional lone star descends through the square of your former childhood bedroom window, illuminating everything in dark bruising colors. You sit in your underwear after barely being able to take off your make-up and clothes, hugging your knees to your chest at the corner of the bed against the far end wall, away from these two items. Awake and waiting.

_"Aw c'mon! Ryan was just trying to be nice."_

There's a faint rose thread of light peeking over the silhouette of the city, threatening the night sky with dawn, and still... nothing. You expected the watch to suddenly grow sharp spidery legs in the shape of razors and attempt to murder you in your sleep. While the cell phone could ring without a moment's notice with a young smart condescending voice at the other end letting you know how badly you had messed up. Or even worse; the displeased gravely tone that could only belong to your unearthly Employer, informing you of your Termination and whatever else that might entail, all delivered with his peculiar and unsettling hard-to-place accent.

Another half hour has gone by with no sign of retribution yet, and that only makes your worries grow.

_"I'm sorry, I... I didn't think it would bother you that much."_

_"Babydoll, chill, no harm done."_

They don't understand and how could they? When it's not like you could sit them down to tell them right then and there that the Fortune 100 company for which you supposedly worked for is a complete lie.That your integrity as an employee had suffered, because truthfully you actually worked for a villain organization- and not just any good ol' run of the mill villain organization. No, your job was within the Black Hat Organization empire as Executive and Laboratory Assistant working directly under Lord Black Hat himself and his Senior Vice President and Head Engineer, Dr. Flugslys. That this little circus with Ryan was the equivalent of signing your death warrant and possibly his as well. Surprise!

_"You, you don't-... I want to go home now."_

 Right now, away from the Manor, you find the uncertainty of silence in the absence of punishment is far more terrifying than the act of discipline itself. However, soon and after more time of waiting, fatigue finally takes over in the early morning hours while the sky is still dark, as you lean your head on the wall and your body relaxes, drifting off into the abysmal realm of slumber. 

_.........................................................................  
_

You are jolted awake by the sound of knocking at your door. For a moment you panic, not quite remembering where you are and feeling out of sorts when the neutral dark colors you grew accustomed to are not there to ease you into consciousness and instead are replaced by the blinding sunlight reflected off the colors of your bedroom walls.

" _Corazón_ , are you awake yet? Breakfast is ready." Your mother's voice tentatively calls out from the other side of the door.

"Yes, mom! I'll be right there." You groan, regaining your bearings and massaging with one hand the soreness in your shoulders from the awkward position you slept in earlier in addition to the pounding headache that registers the minute you try to sit up straighter. You sweep over the bed and are relieved to see the Watch stayed in place throughout the night, nothing on it seems out of place. Your phone received no phone calls as well. Maybe your were lucky and they didn't notice you last night despite the many cameras trained on your direction thanks to Ryan's "heroics", because surely by now you would have known if _they_ knew... right?

You get up with some difficulty and head for the shower.

At the kitchen table your mother has breakfast already set out. She hums as she finishes washing some dishes on the sink and you kiss her good morning. Your father watches a football game on TV when you kiss his forehead before shuffling to your place at the table.

"So, we can see things went rather well last night." Your dad comments.

"We saw it on the morning News!" Your mother excitedly supplies with a coffee mug on hand. You're about to tell them that there is nothing that you could call 'going well' when you are in the middle of a villain attack and that you were just lucky enough in that Ryan was able to overpower aforementioned villain, but another thought crosses your mind.

"Wait, did- did you see my face?!" You ask a little too loudly, hands slamming on the table.

"No, we couldn't really see your face because you hid- you were always a bit camera shy." Your mother laughs fixing the hair in your ponytail. "But of course _we_ knew it was you!"

"You know it made for a great picture for the beginning of Ryan's career and I'm sure you would have looked lovely too, hun." Your father turns away from the TV in the living room and begins preparing his morning coffee. "But I'm sure there will be more chances."

You sigh taking a sip from the cool glass of orange juice and then finally decide to seriously address this Ryan business with them, so you brace yourself for the conversation you're about to undertake- when the bell rings a couple of times and you freeze in your seat. Before you react, your mother gets up to answer the door and you scramble a few moments later after her, your heart pounding in your chest. She's already greeting the visitor at the door when you catch up to her, and are a bit puzzled to see her sign a delivery receipt before an ornamental ceramic pot is handed to her, it houses small delicate flowers of a deep crimson color. 

"Look, _mi vida_! A special delivery for you." She smiles, setting down the heavy pot at the entrance wall table.

They are petunias, lovely blooming petunias with massive velvety red petals which turn black at the center of the flower. You regard them hesitantly despite their seemingly harmless nature, a numbing ominous gut feeling settling over your stomach.

 "Oh my... He said there were more, but..."

You peek outside after you hear her concerned comment. Outside, delivery men are in the process of unloading more potted flowers of the same kind onto the front yard from two large nursery trucks. Most of the yard is already a tapestry of red leaving barely any space to walk. Puzzled, you turn back to the flowers inside and find a card held up by a plastic card holder. A solid black top hat motif adorns a corner of the card. You snatch it before your mother has a chance to see it as you hear your father approaching from the kitchen table. You manage to steal a glance down to read the printed message on the high end quality paper;

**"News travel fast.**

**I await your return."**   

An abysmal lick of fear caresses your spine, draining the color from your face. Your hands begin to sweat as your mother comments something about the sheer amount of the peculiar flower choice. Judging by the message attached, you are sure the flowers are a searing prelude of what's to come rather than a romantic gesture.

"Who are they from, _mi'ja_? They must feel really strongly about you by the looks of it." Your mom observes leaning against the door.

Of course, she would ask.

"Th-they're from-from... someone from work- yes! A co-worker sent them to me..." You smile nervously hiding the card inside one of your short short's back pockets. The light material of your t-shirt feels unbearably hot under her scrutinizing gaze, you lightly tap your thighs with the palm of your hands to feign nonchalance but more to release the sudden surge of nervous energy.

Your dad breaks the silence and chuckles. "Well, now! Seems like Ryan's got some competition!"

You groan in reply, though your mother remains silent.

"C'mon, let's finish breakfast before it gets cold. We'll figure out where to put the flowers later." She says closing the door and heading back to the kitchen. You sense she wanted to ask more things but has decided to mercifully drop the subject for the moment.

Yet the uneasy heavy feeling in your gut remains, and you end up barely touching your food.

Should you call Dr. Flug and ask for advise in damage control? Would he even help you? Should you start rehearsing your groveling routine? Will it work this time? After a few minutes of racing thoughts, you excuse yourself with a headache to retreat to the privacy of your bedroom to stew in anxiety there instead. Your dad is about to say something when your mother places a hand over his arm, before turning to you to excuse you from the table.

....................................................................

Well, if they really wanted to do something else, they- **_He_** would have done it by now.

You look at the Organization Watch and card at your bedside table, you sigh closing your eyes not wanting to think about your return to the Manor. This whole time-off business was a mistake. You didn't even get to speak with your parents about Ryan either, and that's important too. Maybe you can use the potted flowers to your advantage for that conversation instead...? This is too much, you think, coming to the realization that you'll eventually have to tell them the truth or something close to the truth. Lies can only carry you so far after all, and you preferred that they find out in your own terms rather than from another source; like they were so close to just now.

A notification noise interrupts your train of thoughts, it came from your cellphone.

[ Good morning :) ]

You don't recognize the number and are about to block it, when another message comes.

[ It's Ryan. One of your friends gave me your number, hope that's okay ]

You have your suspicions of who it might have been and make a mental note to reprimand her later.

[ It's okay ] Not okay, but you don't want to be rude. [ 'Morning ]

You sit up, waiting to see what else he has say now that you've replied.

[ I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn't mean to make you upset, I should have listened to you ]

You sit there for a moment, reading the text and knowing he truly means it. Although he's right, you still recall the hurt look of his face was when you snapped at him last night after all the chaos. You feel awful now, realizing you really cannot hold it against him for not knowing any better. And your friends too. You acted like a brat to them as well, all because your stupid job.

[ It's fine, Ryan. I have some stuff going on right now and it was actually nothing against you, but I still let it get the best of me and snapped. I'm the one that's sorry you guys got the worst of it ]

He types back almost immediately. [ Oh no, don't worry about it! I understand, everyone feels under the weather sometimes!! Yesterday was just not your night. And thanks for replying :) ] He seems relieved.

And then, [ Do you want to go for a walk, if you're not busy? I want to make it up to you ]

Well, you might as well take this chance to set the record straight with him.

[ Ok ]

.......................................................................

"Mom, dad! I'll be back later, I'm going for a walk." You yell towards the living room, placing your keys inside your small shoulder bag

"Okay, honey. Be safe!"

Outside you are greeted by the bright red from the sea of flowers, your hand goes unconsciously to your neck while you carefully move around the potted flowers as if they would burn you just by touching them. You notice Ryan already standing outside waiting for you and looking over the flowers with an indecipherable expression on his face. His hair is slicked back to the side, giving you a full view of the slight frown of his eyebrows and the mild downward tug at the corner of his lips. He turns to face you when he hears the sound of your flip flops approaching.

"Hi." You wave.

"Hey." He nods, "Are your parents working on the garden... or something?" He walks to his car and opens the passenger door for you.

"Yeah, something like that." Your tone deceptively light and noncommittal. He hums in acknowledgement and thankfully asks no more.

The leather interior of the car shines with a fresh coat of detailing oil and smells of a faint minty aroma, very clean and different from the occasional mess that was your old junky car. However, several additions appear to have been mounted onto the dashboard as you spot two small screens tucked at each corner of the front window. A control panel with a touchscreen, several dials and buttons that glow with LED light once a modern looking key is inserted into the ignition. He turns on the AC dialing it to a nice cool temperature.

"Nice ride, Ryan." You comment. "A Hero like you must need all the extra gadgets imaginable to fight crime, I would imagine." You tease to hide how nervous everything inside is making you.

"Thanks!" He responds with a toothy grin. "Yeah, the League has a special division for these type of things, but I like to tinker with electronics- also one of the reasons why I used to get picked on, remember? So I put these in myself."

"Wow, that's even cooler!" You are almost sure Dr. Flug would have rolled his eyes at you for being so easily impressed. But Ryan continues to smile as he pulls out onto the road.

"Where are we going?" You ask after a moment of silence, the soft smooth purring of the car's engine distracting you at first before curiosity takes its place.

"To the Pier." He cheerfully answers.

.....................................................................

"Fancy meeting you here~!"

One of your friends calls out from the entrance of the Farmer's Market by the Pier. You are genuinely surprised to see her here, but soon you grow suspicious when you see her winking at Ryan.

"See? Told you she'd reply!" She says after hugging you in greeting. He laughs, palming at the back of his neck looking sheepish and slightly red.

"So it was YOU! I _knew_ it!!!" You furiously glare at her and tug at the tresses of her long hair.

"Ow-owowow! I was just trying to help!! And you never stay mad for long anyway!!" She says snatching the hair from your hands. "Also, we needed to hang out more before you disappeared again to that horrid Island."

"You could have just texted me." You say exasperated, but happy to know they still wanted to see you despite the fiasco from yesterday. They were good people like that. "Where are the rest? I know they're here somewhere." You look around suspiciously, knowing your friends almost always hung out in a pack.

"They went to get something to eat. I was saving the table for us." She motions to sit down, and soon you see them approaching, hands full of junk food for the food trucks nearby.

"They seem to have system figured out." Ryan chuckles next to you. "Do you want me to get you something to eat? Drink?"

And you're about to say 'yes,' so that you can finally have some alone time with your friends and have The Talk with them as well.

"Don't worry about that, dude. We got you guys more than covered." One of them says setting down several plates of food in front of you. 

"Thanks, guys!" You feign a smile with a cheery tone you use, despite your gritted teeth.

Soon, lively conversations rules the table while they stuff their faces in the cool breeze of the sea. The bustling of other people out and about also enjoying the afternoon creates a peaceful backdrop to their antics, and the topic of conversation inevitably falls back to events of last night. You take this opportunity to apologize for yesterday.

"Don't sweat it, Lady! You probably got nervous what with all the people there and stuff!" 

The rest reassure you and dissipate your anxieties, relieving you - at least in part - of your worries. You will miss them dearly when you have leave again tomorrow.

After lunch, all of you walk around the Pier. There are many stalls full of fresh produce which you hadn't had in a long time, so you decide to buy some to bring back home for your mother to cook. Ryan very kindly offers to carry the bags for you. Spending time with your friends out here felt like the old times when you were all still in high school and before every one took off to do their own thing. You find yourself actually relaxed at one point, tension leaving your shoulders as you watch a street band play colorful folk music while elderly people danced to the rhythm of the songs. The afternoon progressed bringing with it a bitingly cold breeze which made you regret your choice of clothing for the day. Ryan noticed when you moved closer to him for warmth and immediately offered his thick zip-up jacket. This time you did not complain and happily accepted it, grateful for the huge garment that fit you more like a dress than a sweater. You catch your friend giving him a thumbs up as he helps you put it on, while her girlfriend giggles from her place draping over her arm, evidently finding the whole thing funny and no doubt 'adorable.'

"It's been a while since I've been out like this." Ryan comments, looking content as he wistfully watches the little impromptu street performance.

"You mean, you don't hang out with your hero friends from time to time?" You suspect he still has some difficulty making friends like he did when he was a kid.

"Yeah, but not with all of them, just some and they're mostly from other divisions too. For now though, the rest of my day is occupied with training, patrols, and assignments."

"Sounds like you're kept busy. I can relate to that, sometimes feel like a slave at work!" You joke, but internally grimace at how literal that statement actually is. "Being a Hero must take a lot of work and responsibility though."

"It's a team effort, really." He shrugs and stuffs his hands inside his pants' pockets. Your eyebrows raise when you hear him admit this. "Heroes just get the most lime light because they're- well, they're heroes. But there's tons of work that goes into a mission that civilians are usually unaware of. For example, Intel Operatives are given infiltration assignments before the Department of Security even decides to dispatch someone from the League." You nod along, attentively listening and interested. Then his face turns serious again. "Right now, a close colleague of mine volunteered to infiltrate a big shot's base of operations to scout for any weaknesses that this- this... _man_ , might have." He intones 'man' in a way that makes it seem like he is not entirely sure of the subject's actual nature.

"Sounds really dangerous..." Then you cautiously ask, unsure of actually wanting to know the answer. "... and who is this presumed villain?" Maybe you know of him.

"Don't know, she can't say right now. But last time I spoke to her she was really confident in her progress since it looks like she made it inside the base. 'Says her success is evidence that infiltrating this subject 's lair is possible and can pave the way for other intel officers to do the same in the future." 

Wow, she sounds really committed. "How long has she been in there?"

"Eh, about a couple of weeks, I think. She said she'd contact me soon. I'm kind of worried for her though." He brings up his right wrist to glance at the communicator watch.

"I see... The best of luck to her then." And you truly mean it, as you gently reach up to ruffle his hair. "You've grown up to be a truly noble person, Ryan, you know that?" The dour expression on his face softens and he turns to face you, gathering one of your hands into his, the one where the bite wound just finished healing.

"I also wanted to apologize for yesterday- I got carried away and came onto you a little too strong too." That is quite the understatement, recalling the intensity of his stare, but you let him continue. "Kind of just spilled my feelings at the club of all places! Expecting you to- I don't know... like me back right then and there?" The blue of his eyes is covered by long dark lashes as he casts his earnest gaze down to the pavement floor. The uneasiness of having him close slowly melts into a another type of feeling altogether. "Stupid, I know! But I couldn't help myself. And..." He licks his lips, biting them for a moment before continuing. "I just want you to know that you don't have to return my feelings, it's enough for me that you know."

You watch the downcast expression on his face for a moment before your eyes trail down to the place where he holds your hand, his warmth is foreign yet somehow familiar. Perhaps, had your circumstance been different you wouldn't hesitate in giving him a chance. His good looks only added to the appeal of being the first one to actually want to persue something serious with you in a while, and the first one to also be so forward about it, making you aware of his intentions the first chance he got. Ryan Lovern... It was so easy to picture a life with him; you'd date him for a few months, officially be girlfriend and boyfriend for some more, and before long- a proposal, as many careered heroes tended to do as soon as they found an agreeable partner, since they are unable to predict when the hazards of the job would take their lives and any other lineage they might have had along with them.

The sound of a shrill ringing sound wrenches you away from the moment, startled, you whisk your hand away from Ryan to frantically dig inside your purse to the source of the sound. It is predictably the Organization Watch, which you wisely decide to keep inside the purse while you pressed the small button to silence it. It is the first alarm to go off since your arrival home, it signaled the start of the countdown to your return to the Organization, to your return at your Boss' side.

"Everything okay? Do you need to be somewhere?" Asks Ryan, slightly concerned.

"Err, no. I'm good! Just an alarm from work I forgot to turn off." You laugh a little. "But, I think I would like to go home now." You admit.

...........................................................................

" _Corazón_ , you should have seen the poor boy! A nervous wreck and beet-red at our dinner table. Your dad looked like he didn't know whether he should pummel him or feel proud that you caught Ryan's attention."

Your mother softly laughs from where she sits braiding your hair on the living room sofa, you sit between her legs on the carpeted floor in your pajama shorts enjoying your time alone with her, she was your lifetime confidant after your father whom had long gone to bed, exhausted after rearranging the delivered flower pots around the front and backyard of the house.

"I just wish you guys had told me this from the beginning. I think it would have avoided me all this mess."

" _Si, mi'ja, pero ese muchacho queria hacer las cosas a su manera._ He just wanted us to know that he was serious about you, very gallant of him too- they don't make them like that anymore- and pleaded we did not breathe a word of this to you, he didn't want you feel pressured. We just thought it was very romantic of him and let our enthusiasm get the best of us, so we decided give you guys _un empujoncito_ in the right direction! _Es un buen muchacho_."

"I'm not saying that he's not, it's just that I- I have other priorities right now, Mom. So please, no more _empujoncitos_ from now on. I don't want to hurt his feelings."

"Okay, _mi'ja_ , I'm sorry." She hugs you from behind, resting her cheek over your head, "I'll talk to your father tomorrow in the morning. But tell me, does it have to do anything with the flowers from earlier? That must have been an awfully expensive gift..."

You tense under her arms and swallow hard.

"Nnnoh-yes! Kind of." Your thoughts falter under her prodding question. She pulls back and grabs your shoulders squeezing them for you stand up and face her.

" _Tesoro_ , I feel like there's something off about you since you started working in that Island, our communication as been spotty at best since. Today you didn't even smile when you received the flowers... _Mi'ja_ , tell me, is everything alright?" 

She asks looking up at you from where she still sits on the couch, the dim light of the table lamp painting the room in a warm orange tinted glow. Her eyes worried and searching for the truth laying hidden below the surface of your nervous smile. Your mother has been the person who you could always confide in, the one to guide you with advise when you needed it, to scold when you deserved it, but most importantly the one to shower you with unconditional and understanding love regardless of your missteps while you came into your own as an independent individual. So maybe this too can somehow be... forgiven, accepted even...

Your words stumble out broken and strained. "Mom, I- the truth is that... my job." Your face burns hot with shame and suddenly your eyes start burning with the sensation of oncoming tears, you tilt your chin up to prevent them from spilling.

How can you possibly expect this to go over well?

"My job is..." You swallow again, "very stressful! My Boss gives us multiple projects to work at a time! That's why I had to request time off, it was all becoming too much for me. And even though he can be really awful sometimes- he approved. The flowers were an apology gift from him to me." You exhale and wipe at stray tears with your fingertips, before sitting on the couch as your mother pulls you into a comforting hug.

No, not today, you can't do this today.

" _Ay, mi'ja... ese Jefe tuyo suena que es un cabrón!"_ You can't help but chuckle at this comment in the comfort of her arms. She continues to hold you for a moment longer. "Remember that this will always be your home and you can always come back here anytime, we'll be here. All that we want is for you to live well and be happy, you are our one and only treasure after all." She pulls away to place a hand on your cheek. "But promise me, _Corazón,_ that you'll tell us if you ever find yourself in trouble."

"Yes, mom, I promise."

.......................................................................

The clearing that Ryan took you when you asked to have time alone with him on the day of your departure is located in an isolated hill which overlooks the city and ocean horizon, the cool breeze easily carries over to the top of the hill. It sways the greenery of trees and shrubs in slow rocking motions. The sun above is warm yet not too overbearing at this time of day and you preferred it, asking Ryan to lower the hardtop of his car once he parked. the low volume of the music on the radio provides soft background noise. The light summer dress you wore was of an ivory shade and ties at the back of your neck, your hair is up in a messy bun. Your luggage, with an extra "goodie bag"-your mother's courtesy, was already inside the trunk alongside Ryan's belongings, your purse was tossed onto the backseat when you began bidding your parents good bye.

This would be your last stop before Ryan dropped you off to the train station for your journey back to Hatsville Island.

Ryan also has to report to Headquarters today, as mentioned offhandedly (but with a knowing smile) by Mr. Lovern when he saw you both getting inside the car. No more remarks or comments were made by your parents at your sudden request to spend time alone with Ryan, seemingly happy and willing to finally let things take its own course. You were really thankful for that and hugged them for a long, long while unsure of when you would be allowed to return if at all...

Now despite the calm scenery, Ryan's left hand is still tight on the stirring wheel of his car long after the engine stopped running, his jawline set as he stares off into the horizon. Anxious and slightly perplexed, if the biting of his lower lip is any indication, as to why this time you are the one requesting privacy with him. And you cannot say you're fairing any better on your part, although for different reasons altogether- the vivid memory of crimson petunias still present in your mind. Yet you know you cannot leave without taking care of this first.

"When we were little, I looked up to you maybe even more than the Heroes in my comics... or the ones in my own family. They all always seemed so distant to me, an unreachable standard with the very real possibility of me not actually becoming a Hero like them someday." His words pull your attention to him now. "But then, I'd see you wreaking havoc over the schoolyard bullies at lunch time and at the park. Heh! You were quite the sight even before you got to be friends with that other chick in your class."

You can't help but laugh, your face hot, not quite believing he still going on about that. "Oh My God. Was I that bad? I feel embarrassed now if that's the one thing you can remember about me!" 

"No-no, it was great! It made me think that even if did not make it into the Lovern's Hall of Fame, I would still try my best to leave my mark and make a difference in the world in some other way, like you did for me whenever I was in trouble. I would lay awake at night thinking of you and hoping for my power to awaken soon, so then you can imagine that I was beside myself when I found out later that you were actually my Uncle's neighbor. You really inspired me to work hard to become the best I could and defend those who could not defend themselves. You were kind of my personal hero." He chuckles then, shoulders slightly shaking, the serious demeanor of his face lightening with the laughter. "After all, not all heroes wear capes."

You snort and lightly smack his arm. "You are such a dork!"

"For you, I'll be anything." He says from where he leans over the stirring wheel, directing a goofy smile your way. Your chest suddenly tightens at the sight and you turn away from him to clear your throat and distract you from the feeling.

"Thank you, I'm really flattered- my mom used to say that I just liked being a trouble-maker. But still, why didn't you tell me before? I think I would have liked to know sooner." You sigh, a faint resigned smile tugging at your lips.

"I wanted to make something of myself before I was, you know, worthy of you." That is a very sweet sentiment, so terribly cheesy like almost everything else about him, but really sweet nonetheless. These sort of little quirks somehow are endearing on him, where you would have rolled your eyes at someone else, but now you digress. There is a reason why you asked him to bring you here and it's not to reminisce about the past.

"Listen, I-I don't think I got a chance to give you my answer before." You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with the other hand you lightly tap at the skin of your neck, his eyes now heavy on you and you end up having to look away. "You see, I'm- I uhh..." Where to begin? You take a deep breath- oh, you got it! You sit up straighter and finally turn to meet his stare.

"You are a great guy, Ryan! A handsome hero, a nice and intelligent boy- but more important than all that, you have a beautiful heart made of gold that is set in the right place! You have everything going for you, with such a long way to _go_ and so many people to _meet_ that I think it would be best if- "

The awful ringing sound from the Watch cuts you off, making you jump in your seat. Ryan also looks around startled but weary of the timbering tone. You frantically look around until you remember where you tossed your purse earlier. Quickly you twist your body around and are about to launch yourself to the backseat to grab it when you see in mortifying horror that Ryan is already pulling at the purse's strap. The sudden jerk causes the body of the purse to fall onto the floor where its contents spill onto the clean black mats of his car in a treacherous display of gravity, the ringing Watch is among the first items to surface from the bag.

_Shit._

To your credit you panic only for a split second, before you lean over the young hero beside you, [accidentally hitting the radio volume in the process](https://youtu.be/f8N4Nk-SYpI).

You swiftly cup his face into your hands pulling him to face you, and lean down to desperately kiss his lips. He makes a surprised noise, at first, but quickly recovers as he brings one hand to the back of your neck, eagerly deepening the kiss. You move over to straddle his thighs, anything to keep him in place, which he doesn't seem to mind because he then blindingly searches and pulls the lever reclining the seat back, pulling you down with him. His lips are soft, the wet warmth of his mouth welcomes you in this new position, as one hand begins caressing the skin in your back. You are momentarily distracted by the sensation, noticing a moment later that you now have a better reach, you extend out your hand to roam the backseat floor with the tips of your fingers, making you press into Ryan's kiss a little harder. Another of Ryan's hands has found it's way under your dress and is currently caressing one of your thighs. The attention feels kind of nice, and you end up moaning into his mouth when he moves his hand to rest at the base of your hip to pull you down and press you against him. You can't help but grind into him enjoying the contact after that, he curses under his breath and you place one last kiss at the corner of his lips, moving up against his body; you still need to grab and hide the blasted thing.

Ryan takes this as permission to explore more as he mouths at the base of your neck and jaw with open mouthed kisses, hot breath against your skin in whispers of adoration and undying love. His hands then come to cup and knead your breasts over the fabric of the dress. The Watch is still further away, so you sit up for a second to undo the tie at the back of your neck holding the dress up. Ryan's face is visibly flushed evident even through the tan of his skin, eyebrows slightly drown together with a heated intense gaze.

"Jesus, you look so _fucking hot_ right now." His voice hoarse and tightly wound while his hands roughly knead your thighs.

You breath a soft laugh, and you would be laying if you did not feel as worked up as he looks. So you come down again to let him try a hand at undoing your strapless bra, as he gently nips and kisses the pliant softness of your chest. You finally, _finally_ get a hold of the now silent Watch, as he undoes the clasps of your lingerie. You barely manage to toss it inside the purse, when another moan escapes you at the sudden feeling of his mouth over the sensitive nub of your nipple, one hand has gone back to massage your backside, while the other has come down to rub slow agonizing circles at the base of your underwear, stimulating your clit.

"Oh fuck... Ryan- !" 'Where the hell did you learn that?' you want to ask, but he has already withdrawn his hand away to use them both again to guide your hips against the clothed tent in his pants. It had been _so long_ since you... your breathing becomes more labored with feeling of his cock rutting against your wet undergarment.

"You want it, babe?" His warmth mouth at your ear, his hips slowly rolling up to press into you in a barely restrained manner. Hands already palming at the firmness of your ass, fingers tucked underneath thin lacy fabric. And the coiling heated sensation resting at the base of your lower abdomen dictates your answer.

"Hnngh... Yes!"

And just like that, as if releasing a caged animal, he roughly pulls you off to quickly dig into his pants pocket for his wallet. You almost quirk a questioning eyebrow but become enraptured once he finds what he was looking for, pulling down at his pants just enough to free his erection. His cock is nice and healthy of good size and girth, your swallow expectant while he sheathes it inside the condom. Ryan gives it a couple of tugs to show off more than anything, smugly smirking when he catches you biting your lips ready and willing for him, he then pulls closer again. You raise your hips to align with the warm length, bracing yourself on Ryan's shoulders, the ivory dress obscuring your vision until you feel the hard wide nub of his cock teasing your wet folds. His hands splay at your sides, as he eases his cock into you. You groan in satisfaction, feeling the flesh stretch open while he hisses your name between gritted teeth. His brows furrow in concentration coated with a thin layer of perspiration.

You are so thankful for the seclusion of the area, here in the ocean breeze-away from prying eyes and prying ears you can be as loud as you please. Soon you begin to move wanting more of that friction, calling out Ryan's name in between moans and gasps. He moves up his hips to meet yours every time you come down on his hot length, the car rocking and creaking with every movement. Ryan slaps your bottom a couple of times, the stinging pain adding a sharp pleasant edge to the sweet sensation of flesh against flesh. Your voice tight almost raising to a scream, when he folds his forearms around you to lock you in place as he begins a punishing pace, your spine arching back as he thrusts deep inside your heat.

"Nhg-it feels so good!... Ryan, keep going!" You moan against his mouth as he continues to pound into you.

" _Fuck_ , you've no idea how much I wanted you since I saw you again. How much I _longed_ for you." He releases your arms and you bring them up to his neck, yearning and despair raw in his voice.

You sob out his name one last time before a shocking wave of pleasure abruptly overtakes your body, coiling warmth unfurling and wracking through you. He soon follows when you feel his hard thrusts stutter under the tightness of you thighs, he grabs your face in between his palms and kisses you, tongue hungrily exploring your mouth again while his length buries itself to the base into the moist warmth of your lips. The last spasms of orgasm work themselves through your entwined bodies, burying your hands through each others hair, enjoying the prolonged kiss.

Afterward, you lay on top of him in silence, still squeezed in together in the front car seat. His arm around your shoulders, the radio finally turned off. He seems at peace and content, but a feeling of guilt and dread immediately settles over your body.

This was mistake.

"Ryan..." You begin, and he hums in response. "I'm sorry, but I don't think you and I will work out." You confess, finally.

"What, I'm sorry, was I that bad?" He jokes, although you can immediately feel his body going stiff as looks down at you, you decide to disentangle yourself from him and move back to your original seat in the car. Undoing your hair, you let it fall over your shoulders, despite the now burning heat of the afternoon sun.

"No, no! It wasn't you, it's just that I have some stuff going on and I can't afford to involve myself with anyone right now- Um, that's what I wanted to tell you before- well, before I did... _that_. I'm sorry, that was my mistake and for leading you one like this. But please don't ask me to elaborate more. I think I messed up enough as it is." You hate yourself for getting Ryan's hopes up for nothing, it would serve you right if he decided to dump you out here in the middle of nowhere, but you know he won't because he's too nice to even do that.

"Babe, I'm not quite following. Why can't we date? Is it because of the distance, because if it is- "

"Ryan, you're a really sweet boy and I don't want to hurt you- well, any more than what I already have now, I just want you to understand and to accept my answer." You hold his gaze, which is really hard after what you've both done.

He remains silent for a while, "So then this was just a one time thing then..."

"Yes, I'm sorry."

"I hope you can tell me one day why you can't be with me. But if you want, I can even wait more if that's what it takes to be with you." His naive words a startling contrast with the way he carried himself only a few minutes prior, and still you sigh in another attempt at reason.

"There are plenty of other pretty girls who would be happy to have you, Ryan. Don't rob yourself of a promising future just because you want to wait on me." His eyes flicker once more to you, the electric blue in them brighter than ever in the sunlight. He sighs and turns on the ignition to take you to the train station at last.

The car ride back to the city is silent and awkward. You avoid thinking of anything else for now and find that the thought of burning red petunias serve just as well for distraction.

..........................................................................

"One last good-bye kiss before you go?"

Both of you look more or less put together and are standing outside the station, your luggage in tow. You try to peck his cheek, but he turns to kiss you on the lips instead, stealing one last kiss from you as a departing gift, his hand gently cradles your face. You pull away, a blush dusting your cheeks out here in public, images of your escapade with him still fresh in your mind and body.

"Well, I guess this is it then." You say finally stepping back from his embrace, "I look forward to hearing from you on the News, beating bad guys and stuff." You both laugh at this when you fake punch him on the stomach in an attempt to lighten the mood.

But then you remember where you'll be going back to.

"Just... be careful, Hero Thunder-Strike. When things get tough, there's no shame in running if it means you'll get to live to fight another day- even villains do that from time to time!" You offer him a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes and squeeze his hand one last time.

"Thank you, I'll remember that." He says, a bright smile drawn over his fine features, you nod and begin your walk to the train's platform.

"I hope we can still keep in contact if you don't mind!" You hear him shout and turn only to wave at him as he gets inside his car.

"Maybe!"

You shout back, knowing better.

.......................................................................

The alarm wen off every hour after you got on the train, and then every 20 minutes after. The good news is that you were already arriving to the Manor by the time it went off at every 10 minute intervals. You apologized to the driver after the second sigh he emitted and made sure to tip him extra when he dropped you off. However, he did not give you a chance to even thank him right after he helped out with your luggage and after eyeing the Mansion at the top of the small hill.

One of the first things you notice upon setting foot on the sidewalk is several Sentinel Hat Bots working outside the Mansion, apparently remodeling some of its sections. The creaking of the gate temporarily grabs their attention as their one eye glows red until you take the Watch out to let them scan it. They salute you in their customary mechanical greeting, then they leave you alone to return to the task at hand.

Upon closer inspection you notice that the work they are doing is actually not 'remodeling', but instead was that of _reconstruction_. Something must have happened while you were gone, you swallow hard at the realization.

Your steps are slow and cautious as you're about to ring the bell to the Manor, when the massive doors are opened from inside by two hatted Botlers. Dr. Flug stands alone at the center of the Entrance Hall, holding a Watch in his left hand equal to the one you tightly grip in your right. He barely spares you glance, as he presses down the knob on the Watch he holds ending the countdown. Then his gaze lifts up to meet yours, hands inside his white lab coat pockets

 

No greetings, straight to the point.

 

"You made it back 10 minutes earlier than stipulated. Good Job! You're the first dolt I've seen rush to their grave."

 

And yet you still find it in you to halfheartedly joke, easily stepping into your role as the Organization's Assistant.

 

"And to think my mother sent you a lovingly homemade dessert, Doctor." 

 

 

 

* * *

 

When given as a gift, Petunias typically have two meanings. They could represent being comfortable with someone, or "your company suits me."

_Conversely, they could also represent anger and resentment._

 

([Source](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petunia))

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bro, this chapter fried my brain... but here it is! Sorry for the really long wait, life stuff has a special way of getting in the way of my writing time. Also, also I kind of got back into the Gravity Falls fandom when I found out fans had made a really good dating sim for the Grunkles (more like Hunkles, am I right?!) and that took like one entire weekend of my time, sorry- I got distracted but like have you seen them? Dang! Anyway, thank you all for your patience and hope you guys are still liking the story so far, remember that we're going places with this.
> 
> And don't forget that comments help a lot and motivate writing so don't forget to leave a comment! Thank you!!


	12. My girl, my girl, don't lie to me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "[...] the song describes a confrontation, the person being challenged is always a woman. The folk version by the Kossoy Sisters asks, "Little girl, little girl, where'd you stay last night? Not even your mother knows." The reply to the question, "Where did you get that dress/ And those shoes that are so fine?" from one version is, "From a man in the mines/Who sleeps in the pines."[6] The theme of a woman being caught doing something she should not is thus also common to many variants." - wikipedia.org, In the Pines.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nirvana - Where Did You Sleep Last Night: youtu.be/iaCzydWesVA
> 
> please remember to mind the tags.

 

 

The room is devoid of light.

It is the first thing you notice when you step into his Study. The tall red tinted window provides the only natural light inside, framing the high backed chair at it's center. You cannot see him but know he is there by the glowing reflection of his monocle.

Cold sweat runs down your brow at the sight. You do an intake of air preparing to speak, but a scaly cool sinewy muscle instantly winds itself around your torso, effectively and swiftly squeezing air out from your lungs with a crushing grip. Yelping, you desperately claw at the- at whatever this _thing_ is, until hissing and rattling sounds come from somewhere above. It is then that you recognize this creature as the reptile from the Conservatory. Its shifting body curling tighter still, scales constricting over the fabric of your dress. 

"Sir!" You plead.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't let Jack have you for dinner tonight." His voice comes out deceptively even and calm from the darkness of his desk.

You know better than to believe this is the case, evident by the beast's cold body slowly squeezing the life out of you. You try to form coherent words and sentences through the lack of air amid undiluted terror and the horrible sensation of crushed guts, an apology if he'll have it. However, the enormous snake constricting your breathing only allows for a strained whimpers to make it out, if it goes any further you are sure your ribs will break.

A snap of fingers.

And you are suddenly released from the creature's hold, it throws you to the floor and you waste no time heaving gulps of air in between coughs with adrenaline now coursing through your veins. Moments pass where you hastily gather your thoughts, wiping the corner of your eyes with your hands, ignoring the new soreness at your sides before you try again.

"I-I didn't- !!"

A dark unseen force clasps the scruff of your neck, you are yanked with an unyielding strength, forcibly tilting your head back to its limit. Instinctively your hands move to search for the restraints in vain, only touching cold air and your own tangled hair at the base of your neck.

"Don't take me for one of your gullible idiots, Assistant. Demencia came in here that night howling like a maniac about you and imagine my surprise when Flug confirmed your location in the monitor!" An angry fist slams onto the desk. "So try again, I want to see how you weasel your way out of this one!"

You swallow through the clump in your throat, tears welling up at the corner of your eyes again. "His uncle! His uncle is a long time family friend... Ry- He, the Hero was visiting- and I didn't know, I didn't know he'd be there, Sir! I tried not to have contact with him, but- " The giant reptilian coils itself around you for a second time, adding discomfort to your despair. "Please...S-sir." You plead in a hoarse whisper.

He stands, and you flinch.

Walking around the desk through muted crimson light, your panicked eyes catch sight of a black glossy riding crop in his hand. He carelessly swings it in the grasp of his hand, before deliberately tapping it over the palm of the other leather clad hand when he comes to stand at the forefront of his desk.

"Can your little head understand how dearly this could have cost the Organization had your identity been more _**RECOGNIZABLE?!!!**_ " The riding crop cuts through air as it's brought down onto the mahogany desk in one powerful blow, the sound of flying woodchips is heard upon impact throughout the room. You shrink back in turn.

"Y-yes, Sir, I..."  your neck strains and is beginning to hurt in this position, "and I did- I did try to keep away, but- " Circumstance, familial pressure, the need to end things in a good note and your own weak will are a pathetic amalgam of excuses when the man before you thirsts more for blood rather than reason or excuses.

" **SILENCE!** Yet you did nothing but associate yourself with the disgusting _hero_ ," he spits out the word, as if it were an insult, "and with one stupid enough who thinks he can put a dent to my business, no less!" 

The force holding your neck gone with a movement of his hand, and you are sent slouching forward onto the solid carpeted floor below when he comes to stand at a couple of feet before you. The beast chooses this moment to retreat to the far corner wall, leaving you alone at his mercy. 

"Stand up, you deplorable _ingrate."_

The scorn in those words feel like a blow to your gut. You curl into yourself, air gone from your lungs as eternal seconds tick by, your eyes shut tight- tears falling leaving wet small stains on the fine carpet of his Study. An ugly guttural sob fills your lungs with air again before you slowly move from your position on the ground to obey his order. You wipe your face with the back of your hand, and you don't have to see his face to feel the heat from his wrathful glare. The mild but rapid rise and fall of his chest tells you enough.

Your eyes are drawn to the clench and release of the riding crop in his left hand; a silent promise of relentless pain.

You will pay dearly for your transgressions.

A clawed hand grabs your elbow and begins dragging you through the double doors of his Study, they open out to make way for their Master and onto the Manor's dark corridors.

He has your arm in such bruising force that you can feel the blood circulation struggle to reach your fingertips. Your heart is a jackhammer drilling inside your rib cage, while you maneuver your body to keep up with the long stride of his footsteps. Stumbling to catch yourself from a fall, a pair of your flats gets left behind in the brusque pace he takes, you cut the loss suspecting he'd drag you over the floor if your were to actually fall. Your eyes focused on the entity's masculine slender back as he tugs you along to who knows what part of the Manor. Your breathing is shallow and quick, peppered it with whispered pleads for mercy.

"Sir, please..." You sob in between gulps of air, pawing at his unyielding hand.

Your efforts and pleas falling to deaf ears as the distorted perception of reality through the veil of fear muddles your mind, every beat of your heart punctuating the panic rushing through you. Which room will he take you to? 'The Game Room'? The Basement? The Lab? Where?

The answer comes at the end of a lengthy hallway, where two black doors slam open seconds before you are pulled in.

The first sight that greets you is the gaping maw of a blazing firepit going at full blast. Bleak grey color of stone bricks lines the wall, its pattern interrupted by small slit openings of windows at the upper walls, near the ceiling of the room. A black metal table sits over to the side, while a number of blacksmith's tools neatly hang upon racks nailed the wall. Your attention is drawn to a pile of light colored clothes haphazardly thrown in a pile on the clay-red floor.

You pause puzzled until you recognized them as yours.

"The uniform is the only garment you will ever need during your servitude to the Organization, so you are to rid of any distraction that makes you stray from performing your duties here. Burn these obsolete rags, **_NOW_**."

 And with that, you are flung toward them, your knees and palms scraping upon impact when you avoid hitting the ground face-first. The violent sound of the riding crop hitting the cold black metal table jolts your senses before you can even recover from the fall.

**_"Make haste!!"_ **

His voice, an unearthly echo of baritones shakes with reverberating fury the entire Manor, he pants in a struggle to keep himself in check. You've no time to protest - let alone a right to - so you grab the first articles of clothing nearby and begin to do as you're told.

He sneers impassive, cruelly uncaring as he watches you begin the process of disposing the few things within the Mansion that you could truly call your own. The shred of dignity and sense of identity which you had been so generously afforded is soon in blazes by Mr. Black Hat's command. Flames rise in a consuming dance celebrating in a ritual pyre with the garments you repentantly feed it to appease your godless overlord as if in a grim offering ceremony. Among the many things tossed in are your college hoodie, a gifted cozy oversized sweater, your mother's lovingly knit scarf, your go-to comfy sweat pants, and ironically enough- your business casual attire in which you interviewed the first time you set foot here. You wipe at your face, body warm from kneeling so close to the burning pit, stopping for a few moments to catch your breath.

Most of your clothes are gone by now, wishing you could take back everything that transpired in the last few days of your absence, you stare into the flames and floating ashes, pleading this will be the end of your regrettable mistakes. The weight of his gaze weighs heavy on you, as another agonizing thought dawns in your mind; What would he do if he were to know of your date with Ryan up on the distant green hill overlooking the sea?

Or... does he somehow already know? 

Your nerves become a tighter bundle of uncertainty and anxiety, higher-strung than before. This prompts you to take and toss bigger handful of clothes into the fire. You don't want to dwell any more on that frightening possibility so you avoid thinking of things that remind you of home, of the people close to you.

The last piece is tossed onto the fire, and even in your current misery you can't help but wonder why the usual cruel cackling of laughter is absent from the burning spectacle which you've come to know he'd take no small amount of pleasure in; and after a moment, with a sinking feeling you can guess why that is.

His smoldering wrath still remains.

A shudder wracks through your spine, you swallow through the lump in your throat when you feel his strange looming presence close behind, it chills you in place. He uses the riding crop's leather skin to tap your cheek, commanding you stand up again. The room is dark with the dancing shadows of the fire. Rising from the warm floor, the rush of blood though your pounding heart when you turn to face him is clearly heard in the silence of the room. Your eyes flicker to the riding crop held at his back, and you take a slight step back toward the bricked wall. 

And finally, a sniggering laughter carries over the crackling sound of your burning clothes in the pit's flames.

"Oh, don't worry, what I have prepared for you is much worse than this." He says, wiggling the thing behind his back. "Ah, but I think that also depends on your perspective and... tolerance for pain."

For the first time, your eyes dart for the door, a fleeting desire to escape.

And you are a fool to even think that is a viable option.

"Sir, is-is this not enough...?" You dared ask with a trembling voice.

His eyes turn cold and unforgiving, patience gone as he stalks forward in long swift strides. 

"Anything but." He spits out, tossing the riding crop off to the side.

The flickering black void of his shadow conjures up from the red ground, you fail to notice it by the time he's got you by the scruff of your neck again, hauling you onto the metal table with far more force than necessary. A faint whimper escapes you with the speed of his startling movement. 

"Sir- no, it hurts...!" You a implore from another untapped layer of fear, your hands moving to grasp at his arm. 

"That's the idea, you little fool!" He growls in response.

And the more you thrash about in his claws, the better his mood becomes, a low rasping sound of an appreciatory hum rumbles up his taut chest. You are a plaything to him again as he effortlessly bends your back into a tight arching bow with the pull of your hair in his hand, you can do no more but yield. Neck bared for him in submission, ghostly exhaling breath spreading throughout your exposed skin. It sinks into your pores, triggering goosebumps to rise at the contact. His other hand comes to rest right over your thundering heart. His posture as if he were holding a violin - ready to play one of his countless macabre compositions. You, the object to manipulate and use for his entertainment, merely something amusing to pass the time with. And as such... as such _thing_ , he regards you with an air of detached scrutiny as if ensuring his favorite instrument hadn't been damaged. His serpentine slit eye roams, pries, and is fixed in your pained form before settling over your face. Unmoving.

Unmoving until the corners of his mouth tug into a low guttural snarl, demeanor shifting. Confirming some omitted truth that smells of crisp ocean breeze and bad decision making in favor of corporeal bliss.

Your blood runs cold.

And your only desperate response is to mouth an apology, to gingerly reach out and grasp at the lapels of his coat in the grueling position.

This only incenses him further.

The feeling of his sharp fangs breaking through skin at the base of your neck sends your mind and body reeling in a mixture of terror, pain and regret. You pull at the fabric of his coat in an attempt to get him off, sobbing through gritted teeth and lost in searing pain of deathly green. Warm saliva slides down your chest, every sensation vivid and searingly clear without the poison liquor's pleasant numbness muting your senses. He does not feed this time around, instead inflicting as much pain as bearably possible, prolonged as long as exhaustively possible.

Time comes to a stop in the clench of his fangs until he releases you, sliding them out leaving new punctured openings in their wake. He makes no effort to clean the mixture of slobber and blood running down his chin. Your hands slide down his shoulders, down his black silky coat, slack from the shock of unending pain. You gasp for air with trembling lips, the release of the bite returning your basic bodily functions needed to survive. The needling pain decreases to only a receding pulsating ache now.

He speaks again then.

"Disgracing the Organization's brand name through careless actions and affiliations was a grave mistake, Assistant. But I'll concede this for your troubles; You can toy with whatever insignificant imbecile steps your way as long as you remember who signs your checks at the end of the day." His eyes grow darker still. "And I do believe a little reminder is in order."

You don't flinch as the claw-like hand on your heart slides down over the swell of your breasts, going further down until it comes to a stop right at the base of your sternum. The scalding pain does not register at first as you watch entranced his broad hand splay at the base of your rib cage. A second later an unbearable heat eats through the fabric of your dress, followed by the smell of burning flesh. You hiss at the sensation, your body seizing- zeroing in on the hot branding palm of his hand. 

But then, a dull electrifying sensation courses throughout you, a soft sound keening makes its way out from your emptied lungs while a strange not-unpleasant sensation comes to rest at the base of your hips, it feels a lot like the one from the night of your departure. Is this his doing? It must be, right? Burning shame warms your cheeks with whatever the new sick twisted thrill is. So you close your eyes, in an attempt to shut everything out, you want this to end so badly that you could-

Through serrated daggers, a cruel ferocious laughter erupts from the disconcerting being you call 'your Boss,' almost playful and sadistic at the same time.

"Pitiful lovely thing, you yearn for release but you're to tire me yet."

His hand retreats and you slump back onto the table drenched in sweat, mind racing but holding no concrete thought, panting and in a debased wreck. Your vision darkens, consciousness finally giving out to keep whatever sanity you have left safe. His obsidian extremities retreat and the echoes of his haunting laugh echo from grey bricked walls dyed red and orange from the trailing embers of your remains.

................................................................................

In your dream, an unfamiliar voice calls out to you, or at least that's what you think. Opening your eyes, you try to see who it is but blinding light blurs and overwhelms your vision. So you shut your eyes again, groaning in exhaustion. There's the feeling of floating in air- No, more like swaying in a swing of some kind, you chalk that up to the delirious dream you're surely currently having.

"... -iss? Hey- Miss! Oh man, c'mon. Stay with me!" The insistent voice speaks again. 

"Wh, who... 're you?" You lean forward hitting something hard and metal with your head. Your eyes remain close, your vision is still swaying. "Did I--f'nally... die an' yoh're ahnn angel, here t'take me, to t'ake me... 'way?"

Your words come out slurred despite your effort which is never a good sign, you distantly note.

"Ha! Now that's one I've never heard before!" The voice snorts, but you pick up on the underlying hint of uneasiness in its lively feminine timber. The voice strains to keep the tone light, a bit too forced as if to keep panic at bay.

"Anyway, I'm-..." Their words begin to fade in and out of hearing range.  "... -'re still among the living." The voice says, you can tell it's getting closer despite the fogginess in your mind. There's random echoes of clicking sounds and the slide of fabric onto another firmer material, it sounds like the rough surface of a rope.

You try to reply, but in your state you only manage to mumble out something incomprehensible. The voice replies with something else, but you only hear fuzzy muffled sounds of which you understand none, so you don't respond anymore.

Then there's the light, you feel unbearably hot under its glare. Perhaps it's the sun? Who knows and who cares... Maybe, if you go back to the black nothingness of unconsciousness it won't feel as bad, so you try to lay down to find there's hard enclosing surfaces all around you. Well, you'll just-

A gloved hand touches your cheek. You pause for a moment.

"mhmMr. Black Hat...?"

"... No.... -fraid... me, love." Oh right, the voice.

"Here, ... -ink." The cool plastic mouth of a bottle is brought to your lips.

Instinctively you know what to do and drink the soothing liquid, letting it slide down your throat, flooding your mouth with the welcome simple taste of water. It's so refreshing and real, you think you'll never want to drink anything else other than this when you wake up from the surreal dream. Oh, how your subconscious likes to play tricks on you. Reassurances and cooing words are said by the kind entity in the cotton haze of your vision, as if speaking to a wounded wild animal in the forest. You open your eyes and try to focus your vision to have a better look at your ethereal benefactor, squinting in the light as you continue to drink from the offered bottle. You can tell the voice wears all black. Is that Demencia...? No, wait. it's more of a dark navy blue color, actually. Red flaming short hair and an honey brown complexion form part of the slender figure floating above you.

What a strange outfit for an angel... but then your head begins to hurt so you turn away, closing your eyes again looking no more.

"Th'k you." You say.

"You're not..., -to repor... 'rry. I can tell-... 'm sure you-..." The voice says some other things but you've lost interest, leaning onto the hard enclosure keeping you in place, darkness engulfs your vision once more.

Yet, one last thing manages to make itself clear amidst the sea of black.

"... won't leave you like this." The voice says.

........................................................................................................

You jump awake inside a large empty concrete room, vision clear when you look around to gather your bearings. Dim light and a crisp breeze comes through a circular barred window at the ceiling, the opening lets light flood down with you at its center while everything else is shrouded in shadow. Soon you notice that your line of vision is sectioned off by a pattern of... metal bars? Alarmed, you reach out to touch them fearing it's your mind playing tricks with you again, but come to the realization that you actually sit inside human-sized wire birdcage. Your feet sticking out through the spaces in between midair, it is large enough to hold only one person - sitting - in its cramped confines. A single thick chain hanging from the circular center of the window's bars above suspends the cage above ground.

A blatant mockery of your situation plainly delivered in this new form of humiliation.

You grit your teeth and choose instead to occupy your mind with other things to keep your spirits up. He'll let you out soon enough, right? Otherwise, he would have killed you by now... right? You take this time to observe the intricate ornate metal designs of the cage, finding it funny in how it mirrors your life in a smaller scale- luxury and decadence trapping you in, allowing for only glimpses of life outside here and there.

Shooting pain from somewhere below at the base of your chest, makes you aware of the live tender flesh there. The crusty uncomfortable feeling of dried blood at your neck also serves as another 'reminder' of your current misery.

The night sky gives no clues to the time-frame of your confinement, so you don't know how long you lasted here like this so far.

After a seemingly endless wait, a door off to the side of a wall you can't see, opens.

The light from the other side illuminates Dr. Flug's familiar frame, you panic for a second with the uncertainty of his presence, but immediately breathe at ease when it is joined by the softness of 5.0.5's round silhouette. You watch as the young Doctor steps into the light with a satchel bag in hand, regarding you with a cryptic expression over his face. While 5.0.5's worry is evident by the inward arch of his brows, quivering lower lip and shaking paws holding a tray of warm food. Your demeanor softens at the sight, wanting to comfort the poor bear even if you are the one hung up in the air with open wounds.

You swallow first, through parched sandpaper mouth and throat.

"H-hey..." You greet with a hoarse whisper and the weak movement of your hand at your side.

"I thought we'd have to start another round of interviews soon, but then again they do say that fools can't catch colds, so here we are now. How are you hanging there? No pun intended." You know him well enough by now to know that little jab was fully intended, still though- you are glad to see him again despite the circumstances.

"I am miserable and... so very sorry, Doctor, if that's what you wanted to hear..." You admit.

"Cannot say I can't relate, Ms. Assistant, what with the occasional forced trip to the Realm of Suffering- I'm very familiar with the feeling." It takes you a moment to decipher what he just said. Goggles shining in the starlight's reflection, glowing twin lenses concealed by luminescent white in this rare moment of candidness and empathy. 'So the man of science does have a heart after all,' you would tease had your situation been different, but you remain silent and offer a faint smile instead.

5.0.5 has left his side to pull a hidden lever in the wall. The sound of a clunk echoes in the room and the chain's contraptions slowly begins to lower you down to ground level until your bare feet graze the cold concrete floor.

The Doctor steps closer, fishing a key from his left labcoat pocket, inserting it into the cage's lock. The little door opens and he offers his hands for support when you weakly attempt to slide out of the cold metal frame, you murmur your thanks when he catches you after you stumble out, your legs numb with the limited circulation they've endured.

"Easy there..." He says in low soothing voice you've heard him use only with 5.0.5 before. He pulls you a small distance away from the cage to have you sit now on the floor for lack of a better resting place.

"We'll let you eat in a bit, but for now let's take a look at you first..."

The first thing he checks is your elbow from where Mr. Black Hat gripped you, purple and green colors bloomed with burst blood vessels- area tender to the touch when he goes to inspect it for mobility, while 5.0.5 looks on and emits little groans of empathy. Fortunately, despite the crushing force of his hand, Dr. Flug thinks you'll be okay with rest and an ice pack, he bandages it for good measure for the swelling. After that he goes to the very obvious lacerations in the crook of your neck, you fumble with your hands over your lap, mildly anxious for the smart crude remark that's sure to come. But he says nothing, shakes his head instead with a sigh before tilting your neck to clean up the wounds there. You're grateful to him for leaving your remaining dignity intact.

He makes sure you haven't suffered a concussion of some kind through a series of questions, most of your responses are negative - forgetting to mention the strange vision from earlier, but he still uses one of his pen's flashlights to check your pupils' response. He also searches your cranium for any injuries and tenderness with the tip of his gloved long slender fingers. Finally he follows up on the old wound bite from a few days prior, barely noticeable by now just as he predicted when he applied ointment over it, a 'homemade formula' he boasts. You want to say he'd make a wonderful Doctor had he actually decided on that career path, but fear this would end up insulting him instead.

"I'm gonna need to cut your clothes to treat the... the mark." He interrupts your thoughts, his voice laced with an almost undetectable tremble to it. You nod in response, eager for all this to be over.

"Okay," he intones taking out bandage scissors from the satchel bag,  "at least he made sure to make it very clean. I really doubt there will be an infection but I'll disinfect it anyway." He cuts through the dress with ease, you hold on to the fabric to prevent it from slipping open more than necessary. His hands tremble a bit, when he sets out his supplies and readies the antiseptic.

"This one is gonna sting a bit." He warns this time around.

The diluted hydrogen peroxide irrigation on live flesh burns as if you're being burnt all over again, you bite your lip trying to block out the burning pain. He tries to work mercifully fast, before he starts readying the topical treatment. This gives your now fully alert mind time to wonder.

"Doctor?"

He 'hmm's in response and you want to ask a million questions at first, but the one that makes it out first is the one you feared the most knowing the answer to. "... Who- how, how did Mr. Black Hat... find out... ?"

He remains quiet for some time as he busies himself with his work, you almost begin to think he didn't hear you.

"It wasn't me, you know, if that's what you're thinking." He says, finally.

"It was Demencia, she- I mean you know how she gets! And when she thought she caught sight of you on the livestream- of course she ran straight to the Boss' Study to tell him. I tried to stop her because," he clears his throat then, "well, only because I-... I didn't want to start the search for another Assistant since it would be a pain to train a new one from scratch!" He's almost shouting by now before he catches himself and lowers his voice again, drawing his shoulder into himself as he cuts at the medical tape for the gauze.

"And I want to believe you were not stupid enough to do _that_ on purpose." His tone is flat and non-committal as he tells you this. The admission is kind of... _nice,_ actually. To know he cared enough to tried to look out for you despite the sulky sour mood he was in when you last talked to him over the phone, but you can't let him catch on this fearing he'll draw away again if he does, so you just nod; a silent signal for him to continue.

"But before I could even come up with anything the Boss was already at my desk, demanding to know your location to confirm Demencia's tale. So I had to show him the GPS mapping, and then- and only then to the Boss' credit--did he flip." He says, tilting his head back to show you his newly bandaged neck, you bring a hand to your mouth hiding a gasp. "Good thing he held it together enough to realize he still needed me around to finish working on our latest project, but I can't say the same for some parts of the Manor, or for the unfortunate Bot that happened to cross his way. I'm sure our neighbors didn't sleep that night thinking it was the end of times when the sky turned red for hours- it had been a while after all! I had 5.0.5 hide in the plane's bathroom just in case he decided to turn on him too. The power went out for the duration of his anger." A pause as he dabs treatment onto your burnt skin. "Was surprised he only sent you flowers as a threat, though now I can see why... That was a monumental amount of restraint I had no idea he was even capable of, to be quite honest." At last, he finishes taping the gauze onto the soothed wound.

"Flug- Doctor, I am so sorry..." You whisper from behind the palm of your hand. 

"No, no--it's fine, I mean compared to the number he did on you, I got off easy this time around." He says holding up gloved hands in front of him as if refusing a gift. "I don't know what I'd do if he made me burn **_my_** model plane collection!"

He laughs then, joking as he starts putting his supplies away, motioning to 5.0.5 permission to let you eat. The bear places the tray in front of you with an adoring smile on his soft features, the smell wafting from the food makes you realize how starved you actually are.

"Thank you!" You turn to Dr. Flug, "How long was I here, Doctor?"

"Actually not that long, just a day counting yesterday when you arrived. But after you're done here, _El Patrón_ wants you return to your room and get ready to shoot marketing material for the new product."

He notices your shoulders slump along the slow closing of your eyes.

"Hey, if it'll cheer you up, your luggage actually survived The Great Purge since you left it out in the Entrance foyer, 5.0.5 put it in your room yesterday. The food was taken to the kitchen's fridge. That does make you feel slightly better, so you smile up at him in earnest.

"Thanks, Doctor, and I'm glad that at least _you're_ not upset with me anymore."

He sputters, indignantly crossing his arms over his chest. "Phgrh- What?! When was I ever "upset"?! No- you know what, whatever!" He brings down his arms at his side in muted defeat and picks up his satchel bag instead.

"... It's just that I know what it's like having the Boss angry at you- However, his sour humor as vicious as it can be - doesn't usually last very long. You must have really pissed him off to have him resent you this long, Assistant. And I keep telling you not push your luck since I've seen him maim people for lesser things than this, but you- you never listen." 

It's not like you do things on purpose, but again you thank him anyway for his... concern? As you watch him walk toward the exit. You supposed henchman also showed solidarity to one another from time to time, some just took longer than others to show it.

"I'll leave you some painkillers to take with the food to help you with the pain and swelling. I'll see you in half an hour, Assistant. Don't be late or else- you know, same old yadda yadda yadda... "

And with that you're left looking down at your plate of food with 5.0.5's paws wrapping around you in a comforting hug. You wonder how you can even recover and be camera ready in only 30 minutes.

 .........................................................................................................

 

The answer is that you are not.

Barely having eaten anything, deciding to prioritize your time for a prim image instead. You regret your choice now gazing up at the multiple film lights trained on you, feeling ill and thirsty under Cam-Bot's hot blinding lights. Dr. Flug's pills helped with the headache and muscle pain but also make you drowsy. The tinkering sounds of whatever he's working resonate in the Lab as you dazedly stand by, waiting and doing much of nothing. For once, he spared you from more work after giving you some pointers for this commercial's recording session then waved you off somewhere to the filming area, going on about how much of useless liability you are to him at the moment. His roundabout away of showing consideration you begin to recognize, how cute of him.

Your attention is snapped back to the present when you hear the loud bang of the hangar's doors open. The distinctive clipped sound of dress shoes over tiled flooring announce Mr. Black Hat's presence. Your shoulders stiffen with the sound of his footsteps before his tall figure comes into view.

"Good...M-ehrvening, Sir." You manage.

"Good to see you back in your Organization uniform again, Assistant. We'll get started soon enough, be at the ready."

He greets you barely sparing you a glance, heading to where Dr. Flug is busy with the last touches of whatever destructive apparatus will be showcased tonight, as if the last hours of his all-consuming anger hadn't even occurred in the first place, leaving you with a feeling of out of sorts while your Boss and the Scientist exchange some weapon details.

But there's no time to process your own odd interaction with him when seconds later Cam-Bot begins rolling film as the two individuals come to stand in the shot, framing you at the center, one at each side. The Doctor carries the device in a red and gold embroidered cushion, a silk handkerchief covering the small invention. You have just about enough time to glance at him, he gives you an almost imperceptible nod to signal the beginning of your performance. So you don your plastic doll smile at the camera, adopting a more flattering standing posture with hands over tilted hips and the slight bend of one knee, just like the Doctor instructed earlier.

"Evening, scoundrels from the netherworld!" Your Boss greets with a widespread gesture of his left hand, his charismatic cadence close and foreign now that you are so acutely aware of the taste of his scalding fury. "Your friendly neighborhood vendor of weapons and villain services, Black Hat, here! Again to bring you the latest in weapon technology for your devious deeds! Doctor, do us the honor."

"Sir!" Dr. Flug's shoulders square as he steps up towards the camera, uncovering the device in one swift motion: "[Tiberius](https://www.historyextra.com/period/roman/the-8-bloodiest-roman-emperors-in-history/)!"  


Your Boss then follows up from place at your side. "Homage to a very old friend of mine... A fine name, wouldn't you agree, Assistant?"

You turn to see him smiling down at you, expectant. "Y-yes, Lord Black Hat, an industrious name indeed!" And then smile back at the camera, to avoid looking at the lingering accusation in his eye which is overshadowed by the brim of his hat.

His statement echoes in your head, not fully understanding it's implications but having a feeling that the name forebodes nothing good for you. The thing over the red pillow catches your attention when the Doctor holds it up for Cam-Bot to focus its lens on; It is a wide metallic, black... cuff bracelet? No- it has to be something besides that as it actually seems like quite the hefty piece. Ridges lining it's black shiny reflection and a red... jewel or button adorn the center of the piece.

The young scientist continues on. "Its slick compact design gives its owner the element of surprise as an advantage when the enemy attacks or simply when its owner feels like wrecking a bit of havoc here and there. How? You may be wondering. Well, aside from making quite the fashion statement, our friend here doubles as an all-powerful blastgun. Observe!"

Just as you were beginning to wonder why your presence was even needed in all this, Dr. Flug turns and extends his hand out to you. "Ms. Assistant, your wrist if you will."

You really don't, so you hesitate and take a second too long for when you begin reaching out your hand in offering, you hear the rustling of your Boss' coat as he promptly reaches over for the glossy bangle on the cushion. And the cold grip of his leather gloves grabs your wrist, the heady smell of his cologne - a mild pleasant sandalwood scent - paralyses you as he deftly puts on the bangle in place. The invention automatically adjusts, smugly latching onto your wrist before he presses onto the device's red glowing jewel.

_"Viola!"_

He snarls in your ear and the bulky alloy unravels and expands, manipulated atoms rearranging themselves through whatever brilliant artifice Dr. Flug's mind has come up with.

Ryan's own hero suit comes to mind from when he faced against Dark Phantom, you never imagined you'd also get to experience that technology in person, so you stare in awe when all the pieces click together into place. The product is an onyx-black glossy blastgun just as promised! It consists of keen dangerous edges wherever they could be added to its design- the barrel's end is wide in width but narrows down to form part of the weapon's smaller frame. A sharp spike serves as its front sight to zero in on its hapless targets over the barrel of the gun. The stock already at your chest has the Organization's emblem embedded on it, and the cold trigger guard wraps over your index finger ready to be used immediately.

You do your best to remain calm at the intimidating sight, your vision begins to swim with a combination of painkillers and nerves.

"Usually weapons of this caliber tend to be placed on the heavy machinery category, however, the need for bullets and their related contraptions are unnecessary as this particular model operates only through laser technology. So even fragile individuals can wield it with ease without the extra weight." At this, Dr. Flug motions to you before continuing on. "But don't let this fool you, as it blasts a powerful Class 4 laser ten times magnified with our patented and durable lens! In addition to also controlling the beam's path- "

"Enough with the word vomit, Doctor, CAN IT KILL OR **_WHAT_**?!"

"Yes, B-boss...!" With shaking hands, the Doctor digs through his pocket, pulling out a remote control. He presses one of its buttons and roof from a section of the Lab is opened, Cam-Bot focuses on this.

You swallow hard when you see a set of figures, being lowered down from outside. Are those...? Oh no... No this can't be happening. You can't see very well due to the night's shadows but the figures appear to be people! The bright solid colors of some of their outfits and capes give them away as heroes... You begin taking a step back when your back bumps into your Boss' chest, long and wide hands come to rest at your shoulders and you stop cold in your tracks.

"Unfortunately, these test subjects are only simulations- refurnished robot models that will serve for today's demonstration." You hear the Doctor explain to the camera, and the tension from your shoulders eases.

"Now, Assistant, would you kindly please?"

Kindly, he says.

The Doctor turns on the overhead lights, illuminating the test subjects- it was a bit jarring to see them hung up like that. It is rows upon rows of recognizable heroes who've made a name for themselves in the profession within the last decade. Your Lord's patience finally comes to an end as he pushes you toward the hanging mock heroes in the ceiling's overhang, but also following close behind.

"Here, I'll give your incompetence a hand."

He guides the blastgun's path with his hand over yours, bringing your other arm holding the trigger as well adjusting your posture the tilt of your head to make sure you were aiming where you needed to. Your hart hammers inside your chest with the ghost of his warm breath at your neck, and you think maybe he wouldn't be as terrifying and intimidating to work with if he was this gentle when it came to other matters, but maybe that's just the medicine talking. Your thoughts are interrupted when you pull the trigger, or more like _he_ pulls the trigger over your finger and soon the first row of robots is gone in seconds, sparks going off when the laser touches upon their wired innards.

Your Boss' familiar laughter fills your ears when he sees them melt and burn, he finally releases you barking the order to continue and you've no other choice but to comply.

Row after row of heroes come and go, you want to say this was unnecessary- as you are sure the audience got the point long ago but now you begin to suspect this show was more for him than for any potential costumers. At last, the last row of dummies comes, they were all dressed in the same gold and navy blue colors as Thunder-Strike.

You stop.

"Well, Ms. Assistant? It's the last row, are you not eager to finish this?" You can hear the smile and smugness in his voice.

So he wasn't done yet.

You think you hear a small but urging 'c'mooon, hurry up- it's the least one!' from Dr. Flug. You close your eyes and voice a small apology under your breath before pulling the cold trigger for the last time in the night.

"Mgh-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! AH-HAHAHhh... Well done! Well done indeed, Ms. Assistant!" He compliments while you still gaze up at what remains of the charred bodies of the test subjects fall apart in flames.

You hope to never see anything like that in your lifetime.

The clearing of Dr. Flug's throat makes you turn to him, he presses on the Organization's logo and the metallic alloys compacts again returning to the bangle shape from before. He nods at you again and your face returns to the detached showgirl facade, setting the arm with the bangle diagonally across your chest, hand resting over the opposite shoulder holding that elbow with your free hand, crossing one leg over the other in another accentuating pose.

"Don't miss this launch date special! For only 13,000 dollars you too can enjoy chaos at the convenient reach of your hand-- quite literally! Remember we have payment plans and accept other forms of compensation!" Dr. Flug helpfully informs from your left.

Your Boss' departing words begin to signal the end of this ordeal. "Call now or- "

Pale hands with black fingerless studded gloves grasp and twists Cam-Bot's head, turning him around to film a close-up on fanged white teeth and a mop of bright red green hair. " -I will make a house call with my maze~!!!"

"DEMENCIA!!!" Dr. Flug yells, fuming at the girl in front of you.

Cam-Bot clicks the film cards ending the recording.

"This footage will have to be heavily edited before it's distributed, Doctor." And without missing a beat your Boss continues, "Demencia! _What_ are you doing here?!"

This immediately grabs the girl's attention, letting Cam-Bot's head drop to the ground as she lightly skips towards him. "Boss, I couldn't bear the thought of being far from you any longer after I came back~!" She sighs.

Mr. Black Hat rolls his eyes before demanding answers again. The Doctor gives an exasperated sigh and begins working on getting the bangle off your wrist. You turn your back to her to give him better access and also to avoid talking to her for now.

"5.0.5 told me you would be recording! So I thought I dropped by to be part of it, but now I see that the _Two-Timing Traitor_ is here instead."

Ow, okay... Two-timing? Traitor? She spits the words with all the intended malice in the world towards your direction. They feel like a bucket of ice water poured over you, the insult takes you off-guard with how openly she dared to throw that in your face, here in front of Mr. Black Hat, Dr. Flug and even the still struggling Cam-Bot.

"Dem- " Dr. Flug starts, but you will not let this one go. All of this was her fault in the first place.

"At least I'm not a _snitch_ that wastes Mr. Black Hat's time by tattling to him on people who are undeservingly nice to me." You reply, your back still turned to her. Dr. Flug's eyebrows have risen if the look on his eyes is anything to go by.

"Better a _loyal_ snitch, than a shamelessly _easy_ underling!"

Your breathing is even, despite the warmth of your ears from the thundering bloodstream concentrating there- your face is burning red by now and without thinking you activated the blastgun's mechanism again and pointed the barrel of the gun at Demencia's face.

"Take. That. Back **. _Now_.** "

The startled look of her face let's you know she did not expect you to pull that on her either, however, the satisfaction only lasts for a second before her lips tilt up into enthusiastic grin, eyes eager- discovering she finally hit a nerve, striking gold she will get a rise out of you this time around.

So she begins in a taunting sing-song tone, calling your bluff. "Two~Timing~ Traito- " 

"You little- !"

The blastgun is snatched from your hands at the same she launches herself towards you. The rough movement triggers the gun, fortunately the laser careers upwards in a single blast hitting and perforating the Lab's ceiling. You stumble backwards onto Dr. Flug's chest. Demencia doesn't get to make contact with you when she's pulled up by the scruff of her shirt by Black Hat himself, who also holds the revoked blastgun in the other hand.

"Disappointment, the lot of you are **A** **DISAPPOINTMENT**!" Your Boss growls out in several distorted guttural voices, eyes red and claws out. Everyone in the room ceases movement at once. 

"Demencia!! Do not speak of things that do not concern you! Now go to my Study- if you want to be a busybody then I have work for you!" She cringes at first but then nods and sprints out to his office as soon he lets her go, getting what she came for to begin with, Black Hat's undivided attention.

He calms down after this, deactivates Tiberius and tosses it to the still cowering Doctor. "Flug, you are my second and yet you cannot handle a mere squabble between henchmen." 

"But S-sir, did-did you not see th..."

" _Enough!!_ I fear the day I have to go out for business and leave you in charge. Now mop up this mess before I do it with your face, you poor excuse of a scientist."

"Yessir!" The poor man stumbles off to begin with the clean-up, you watch him hurry off and want to follow after him.

But your Boss' counter shadow engulfs you as he speaks, you gaze up at him waiting for a chiding of your own as if you had not had enough already. "Out of all the idiots in this house, here I thought you'd be the most level-headed of them all, Assistant." 

"I-I'm sorry, Sir... But- " Your hand goes up again to fiddle with the long missed Organization's button.

You look straight ahead, resolutely concentrating on his black tie and contrasting red shirt, refusing to drop your gaze any lower than this. Your eyes sting at the corners with humiliation and embarrassment from Demencia's goading words. How dare she bring that up as if it was nothing, you didn't deserve that- or any of this! And does she know what she said and what that implied? "I... I am not a Two-Timing- whatever she said I was, Sir! So I had to get her to stop! It's none of her business and I mean, does she even understand what that means? Because, because..." ' _Because what?'_ A frown settles over your brow under his impassive stare, and confusion dogs your thoughts, what are you even trying to say? What are you getting at? Do _you_ even know...? "How can I be that, Sir, when I don't-...when I'm not even- "

"Are you sure about that?"

A dark rumbling chuckle brings your attention to him, his monocle shines with amusement and you feel as though you're at the cusp of some obscure realization that he cryptically dangles before you with his words, a discovery that you are not quite sure you are prepared to face.

But the moment passes like the fog of a dark chilly night when he changes the subject.

"You petulant little fool, earlier I took disciplinary action over you and yet you have the gall to be sore over Demencia's petty name calling instead." He huffs out the remnants of his laughter as you dumbly stand there trying to work through what he just said. But he begins to head back to the Mansion before you gleam any meaning from his words, so different and strange from the feral creature in the burning pyre.

"Help the idiot Doctor with the Laboratory. And I expect a completed sales report in my desk by midday tomorrow."

So you're expected to work through the night as well. "Sir, is this also part of my- "

"No. This is because I'm your Boss and I feel like it."

His back already disappearing behind the Lab's doors. At least you are safe in the knowledge that his anger has been quelled for now.

You turn back to see the burnt remnants of Thunder-Strike look-alikes hanging lifeless in the ceiling and decide that that is the first thing you'll take down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi y'all!  
> I beg for your forgiveness in the delay of this Chapter. Started a new position within my organization and I'm being sent to all kinds of trainings. And I got Dragon Quest XI, so like that also played a role in the delay- Gah!! I'm sorry!! And also, also- there's a lot of BH in this one, so it took me so much editing lol.  
> But never fear, I am working on this story, it may take me a few weeks to get it out the door, but I will never abandon it. Thank you all for your patience. I was gonna wait till this month's orientation video to see if I needed to do some tweaking for this chapter but looks like I'll have to wait until next month :O but that wouldn't be fair for you guys tho.  
> Anyway, please comment and kudo the fic. kudos are like a count down for me for the next chapter and comments are my fuel.  
> Don't forget I also have tumblr blog where inkyberrypie's wonderful art and some of my sketches for this story can be found. I'm totes open for a chat or whatevs!


	13. Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sir?" You peeked out from the carriage's door frame.
> 
> "Get out, we're continuing on horseback."

The finishing touch is added by delicately garnishing Dr. Flug's breakfast plate in the late morning. Sun flows inside the kitchen through the windows, and a day has passed since your return but despite that the food you brought from home had remained in pretty good shape while inside the fridge, thanks to 5.0.5's considerate thinking all that it needed was to be reheated in the oven, and ta-da! It looked nice and freshly baked! You placed the food on the serving tray alongside hot coffee and neatly laid out silver utensils and napkins - presentation was key, after all. The savory smell drifts in the air and you must resist the temptation of a second serving, though you suspect you might have already gained a couple of pounds from your mother's wonderful dishes.

You carefully take the tray and begin your long trek back to the Lab, praying nothing gets in your way. In hindsight, you really should just have had one of the Botlers help you.

"Morning, Doctor!"

Your tone light and chipper when you walk in until you see the state the place is in, looking even worse than when you left a few hours ago as stacks of paper after paper are piled up on every available surface. Several monitors flash red indicating overdue tasks and project progress reports. You take in the sight, mildly worried before looking around to locate the young scientist. You find him passed out over a desk around the corner of a tower of documents, overworked and exhausted. You set the tray down on an unoccupied space, before sighing and approaching the sleeping figure to gingerly rub at his shoulder to get him to wake up.

"Flug?"

No response.

You call his name a second time and he suddenly jolts awake, papers and blueprints flying about with his flailing, knocking several stacks off the table alongside fountain pens, clipboards and other office supplies.

"Aah! I promise to have it done by the end of the day, Boss- _pleasedon'tbemad_!!!" He uses his hands as a shield, cowering in his chair.

"Doctor, it's just me! Calm down!" You hold your palms up to get him to quiet down. He pauses then, looks at you surprised and confused for a moment still hyperventilating, before groaning and rubbing his eye from under his paper bag.

"Ugh! I can't believe I fell asleep with so much to catch up on and... Great, now I have a headache." He slouches forward, massaging his temples.

"Your head hurts because you haven't eaten or drank anything since I left. And I offered to stay too, maybe we'd be done by now! How did you even manage when I was gone?" You walk back to get the serving tray from the desk.

"Barely. I got comfortable with the extra help and it threw off my work rhythm as you can see." He begins picking up the fallen forms from the ground.

"Leave those there, Doctor, I'll pick them up in a bit. You deserve a little break so I brought you breakfast~!" You singsong placing the tray before him, a brilliant smile on your face. He stops what he's doing to face the food on the desk. his stomach grumbles then and you can't help but chuckle a bit.

"That's... very thoughtful of you. It's usually 5.0.5 bringing me food." He says eyeing the tray suspiciously.

"Don't make that face at my mother's cooking, Doctor! And I told 5.0.5 to sleep in today because I wanted to personally serve it to you. It's not poisoned, I promise." You lean on the desk placing one hand over your hip; this is what you get for trying to be nice... Well okay, that may not have been your _only_ motive but still. "The Boss already had some too and though he didn't say whether he liked it or not, he still finished it all -which is saying something considering how difficult he is."

"Alright, alright! Jeez!" He waves you off, grabbing the fork.

You waste no time in wheeling a stool next to him, leaning an elbow over the desk to eagerly watch him take the first bite of the breakfast casserole. He shoots you a glare but says nothing as he slowly brings the fork underneath the bag and begins to chew, taking his time to savor the morsel, swallowing finally.

"Hmm! That was actually pretty tast- decent!"

Great!

"Thanks, Doctor!" You smile, admittedly feeling a bit smug. You expect him to snark something back, but instead he takes a bigger chunk and you let him eat in peace while you go to pick up the mess of papers on the floor, mentally readying yourself for the next part of your little plan. He barely touches anything else from the tray as he wolfs down the last piece of the casserole by the time you finish re-organizing the forms and starts sipping his coffee.

Now you can reel it in.

"I mean, sweets and cakes are great and all - but nothing beats a hearty, filling meal, huh, Doctor?" You sit again on the stool next to him. He nods as he sips through the straw you brought him with the tray, "even catered food can get tiring after a while not to mention how unhealthy that is; and you just can't savor that rustic, homemade taste. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Hmph, it certainly is different than all the stuff we tend to eat here..." He sighs, already gazing longingly at the now empty, porcelain plate. Perfect.

"Wouldn't it be great to have meals like this everyday?" You lean forward, your eyes trained on the Doctor even as he turns to you and begins narrowing his own in an attempt to read you while also leaning away.

"Yeesss...? That would be nice."

"Well you know, my dear Doctor, I am my mother's daughter after all. I know her recipes by heart and could potentially cook our meals, but-"

"But?" He crosses his arms at this, quirking a suspicious eyebrow at you. Crap, maybe he won't fall as easily as you thought. You press on nonetheless, all or nothing you think.

"I would just need to go out shopp-"

"Mm-hm, so you want me to ask the Boss to grant you permission to leave the Manor again for whatever demented reason you have with the pretext of cooking, since you know asking him yourself would only get you sent back to the dungeon again. Is that about right or am I missing something?" He sounds so unimpressed by the time he finishes. Yup, he's onto you.

"Yes, that is just about right." You sit up straight again in defeat. "So, will you?"

"OF COURSE _NOT_!! What, ar-are you out of your mind?!" He pushes his chair further away from you, running his gloved hands over his head and wrinkling the brown paper in the process, looking insulted and upset.

"Doctor, please! I'm really gonna lose my mind if I stay here all the time. Please!!" You implore, because it is true.

Coming back from your trip after having reconnected with your family made you realize how crushingly depressing it is to be locked up inside the Manor. To only be considered as a thing to serve and obey -and yes maybe you could do this- _had_ been doing this up until the welcome you received and that cryptic conversation afterward in the Lab. You laid awake in your bed that night, mulling over his words in the few hours you were granted of sleep -when another _thing_ , another feeling began to slowly creep up in the recesses of your being. Its dark stirring hold settling; a latent sensation in your chest.

You knew at the back of your mind that it had to do with your Boss, either by design or as a mere side-effect of his daunting presence, that stirring in your chest scared you.

So there is no other explanation other than that you must be going mad. You just needed to get out more, to interact with other people in a normal setting where you could be afforded some self-agency and respect, no matter how impersonal that setting could be -you just needed space away from the Manor in order to be able to breath, to clear out your mind, and you would take whatever you could get.

If only the Doctor would help you out with this one thing.

"Do you just-... do you just not realize how much _WORSE_ you could have had it?!" He's still shouting, making frustrated gestures with his hands.

"I know, I'm sorry! It's just-I really need this, Doctor, I feel like I'm gonna die in here if I don't get to at least pretend I'm a functioning member of society. I mean, at least you get to go out for deliveries from time to time, but I think I'm already Vitamin D deficient by now!" You slide closer to him catching one of his flailing glove-clad hands, "I promise I won't cause any trouble! 5.0.5 can even come with me! You know how much he also needs to get out too. Please, Doctor, just try- I mean just think of the pay out, the meals! Doctor, think of the delicious food!"

You've cornered him when he hits an adjacent desk behind him, trapping him in place as you stare straight into his narrowed eyes through the dark lenses of his goggles, hopeful and earnest. Practically kneeling on the floor with the way you're leaning out of the stool and onto the lap of his jeans. You know you're really pushing it here.

"There better not be any hero nonsense this time around!" He warns you, using your name for the first time since you met him. He sighs then and brusquely pulls his hand away from yours when you shoot him an exalted look of gratitude. But you don't care, because you then jump on him to reward him with a constricting hug and a kiss on the forehead, your lipstick branding the paper with a token of appreciation.

"Thank you! Thank you, _thank you!!"_ You repeat, ignoring his muffled pleas for air, constricting him tighter against your chest, wrinkling his paper bag in the process.

* * *

 

"Really, guys?!"

You yell at no one in particular as the room is empty with the TV on at full blast. This is the second time you've turned it off today. You swear sometimes it's like you live with a bunch of children instead of fully-grown adults, 5.0.5 doesn't count. You set down the tub of linens you were about to take to the wash and search for the remote to turn off the TV; however, flashy music of a Breaking News cycle grabs your attention, red colors and white letters sliding across the screen. You pause for a moment to see what this is about.

[" --We interrupt our scheduled programming for Breaking News: Infamous kingpin Fonte Podolski has been captured and is currently being detained at a secure location, as confirmed by the Department of Defense who credits one of their newest Hero Recruit units for his capture. Said unit was spearheaded by none other than up and coming Hero Thunder-Strike, who left a strong impression on the public recently after single-handedly capturing Dark Phantom during his aquatic downtown mayhem."]

Helicopter footage of the encounter is shown briefly before it's cut-off to show a victorious Thunder-Strike giving a winning smile as he kindly answers a reporter's question.

"Oh no." You murmur, already feeling a headache coming.

["Podolski's capture came as a consequence of a raid to his massive 100-acre compound hidden deep in an offshore island."

"Hero Thunder-Strike expressed gratitude to his team, but more importantly to all the agents working around the clock to coordinate this Mission and it's subsequent success after decades of Podolski eluding prosecution. The Department of Defense expects to see a domino effect, with a number of businesses tied to Podolski's crime organization soon to come crashing down with news of his capture.

Major Liam Thompson will have a press debrief in a few minutes as we discuss the vital role our intrepid heroes played in this operat-"]

You turn off the TV having seen enough, and sit on the couch for a few moments. It's...It's great to see that Ryan is doing well -better than well even- but at the same time you are almost sure of having seen the name of the Fonte guy somewhere in the Organization's data base. But no, that couldn't be!...Right?

Right?

There's tons of names you read on a daily basis, maybe you're just freaking out a little and your mind is playing tricks on you because the news is about Ryan, that's all.

"Why did you turn it off, I was watching!!"

"Agh!" You jump onto your feet to hear Demencia cackling over the back of the couch, spilling popcorn all over the place from her bowl.

"Ha! You should have seen your face!"

"You little runt, I turned it off because no one was watching it! And DON'T spill more trash on the couch! I just vacuumed earlier!!" She sticks her tongue out as a reply.

"Make me!"

You glare at her harder crossing your arms over your chest, but then huff and go back to the previous task at hand. You have learned to pick your battles when it comes to her.

"Whatever, live like a pig. See if I care."

"Yeah, keep walking!" She says, turning on the TV again and immediately changing the channel when the image of the Major speaking on the press podium appears calling it 'Booorinng.'

Thank goodness for simple minds, you think to yourself and head back out toward the laundry room.

 

* * *

 

 

"I am seriously about to run out of my last surviving favorite lipstick, Doctor! And this collection was discontinued a few months ago!" Your lips are starting to go numb as well while your right hand is developing signs of carpel tunnel after two hours of nonstop signatures. Why do villains have to be such weirdos about everything? Now you kind of understand how Mr. Black Hat feels being at the receiving end of unwanted affections.

"And my hand hurts! I don't understand why I can't just use a stamp instead!"

"For a more personalized authentic tou-I've said it three times already!" He yells at you from inside one of his latest mechanical prototypes.

"But they won't even know the difference!" You disdainfully kiss the newly printed order with the precious dark, ruby shade you used for special occasions. A few of the items that survived the 'Great Purge,' as Flug came to mockingly call it.

"Oh ho ho! But I can assure you that they _will_...somehow, villains are creepy and obsessive like that so you don't want to risk it - **we** don't want to risk it." The sound of an electric drill drowns out all others for a moment. "Besides, you should have thought about that before getting yourself into that mess!"

And that's the thanks you get for trying to help.

Asshole.

"What?!"

Oops. "What?!"

"What did you say?!" He yells.

"Nothing!"

"Oh."

You suppress a laugh and resume indulging these ridiculous requests.

Had you known this was going to be the result of the initiative you had to help, then you would have never answered that e-mail inquiry, or at least not have signed it with your position within the Organization because soon after that the entire conversation took a turn for the...odd. First, your initial reply had the client wanting to know if you really were 'The Assistant' from the video ad and that gave you pause for a moment, before figuring there was no harm if you confirmed that, ever a slave to 'outstanding customer service' and all that. That ended up being a mistake with message after message of inappropriate questions pouring in from the same unrelenting client. You tried your best to dissuade the client yourself from such inappropriate behavior, but only succeeded in getting the customer worked up, culminating with the client calling and demanding to be transferred to your Supervisor -in this case, Dr. Flug for you- and moments later to Mr. Black Hat himself. By then you were sure you would spend the night inside an Iron Maiden.

But thank the powers that be -in this case the Boss himself- that no such thing came to pass when he walked in the Lab with a huge, bone-chilling grin plastered over his face and a payment agreement in his left hand. He raised it for both of you to read in all its overpriced glory; it detailed a new additional fee equal to the price of the product itself in exchange for a personalized message from Black Hat's very own Executive Assistant herself.

Your mind went blank for a moment there, unsure of what to make of this new development.

"Now get to it." Were his only words, letting the bill carelessly fall onto the Lab's shiny, tiled floor.

News spread throughout the underworld of crime like wildfire that -much like ordering from the rumored 'secret menu' of a certain coffee conglomerate- with the purchase of any weapon the Organization's Executive Assistant herself would personally sign individualized messages upon request and your Boss, being the experienced businessman he is made no efforts to deny the claims, immediately recognizing an opportunity for free promotion and increased profit when he saw one. Thus landing you in your current situation. At least your overlord seemed to be in a good mood, if the distant sound of a violin and occasional haunting organ music was anything to go by, leaving Dr. Flug and you alone for a good part of that week.

"Okay, it's ready." Dr. Flug interrupts your never ending task of post card kissing from inside his new Sentinel model, you shudder just by looking at it.

"It looks abysmally...unpleasant, Doctor." You are honest.

"Thanks!" You see his gloved hand waving from inside the metallic exoskeleton, you roll your eyes before kissing the last order goodbye. Finally.

"But I'm serious Doctor, this lip color can't be replaced! Not even the Organization can reimburse me for this!"

You showed him the now empty tube from your desk as he climbed out of the massive Sentinel. You were really not the type of girl to care that much for cosmetics and though the loss did hurt, you were mainly whining as an outlet for the degrading task you were assigned. That lecherous entitled villain should not have been given his way -not like you could voice your frustrations to the Boss anyway, so the Doctor was the next viable supervisory staff you could vent to.

**"Assistant, fetch Dr. Flug and report to my office with him. Now!"**

Comes the curt order from the pointy ears sitting atop your head. The raspy timbre of his voice made you drop the empty tube out of sheer reflex. Mocking laughter comes from the Doctor when he sees your reaction. Like you said: Asshole.

"I guess I don't have to tell you anything then. Let's go."

He snorts one last time before climbs out from the machine and follows you to the Boss' Study.

But this was new. Mr. Black Hat never asked to speak to you both in his office. "I wonder what's going on..." You start feeling a bit troubled, but you guess the laissez-faire deal has finally come to an end.

"Beats me, I know _I_ haven't done anything lately." Oh, does he mean it's you then? Wait...Is _it you_? You go to grab at the button of your collar, realizing then you brought the empty lipstick tube with you after picking it up. Well, at least now you have something to fiddle with in the office, and it can't be that bad today if Flug was also summoned, right?

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Sir." Dr. Flug says as a way of greeting after knocking and letting yourselves in.

Mr. Black Hat glances up before signing a document and placing it on a stack to the right. Dr. Flug and you stand before his desk in wait as he finishes his paperwork. Today he decided to open the window to let some sunlight stream in, the quiet sounds from the neighborhood provided a quiet and oddly soothing atmosphere. He leans back on his chair a few moments later, crossing his legs and lacing his fingers together. A mild look of boredom cast over his eye.

"How are the orders coming along?"

"Ready to ship out today, Boss! Ms. Assistant just finished with the last order." The young scientist supplies again and you give your Boss a smile. Why were you even called if this was going to be a simple a sales report?

"Good, good. I'm happy to inform you that we've made perhaps even double on projected sales with our new, little...incentive." His eye quickly glances in your direction before continuing, "which is just what we need since one of our largest subsidiaries was just terminated by a group of young... _Heroes_." He says spitting out the last word and tossing the Hatsville Daily onto the desk. You swallow hard at this, it's concerning the same News report you saw before, the one about Thunder-Strike. Schooling your face into a neutral mask, you line your teeth and set your jaw in place, betraying nothing of the shattered hopes you had that the News did not pertain to one of the Organization's clients. But who were you kidding, it is the same crime lord that regularly purchases artillery equipment from the Organization. You do your best to keep your breathing calm, even as you begin to fidget with the empty lipstick tube.

"But that is of no consequence now, since we can recover -and we have in fact, already recovered. I'm sure another visionary of organized mayhem will rise into place in no time, so we need to continue enhancing our Training and Consultation Services precisely for these purposes. Flug, you've been focusing too much on Research and Weapon development alone lately, I believe it's time we come up with a new marketing campaign soon...an official one this time."

You breath out a discreet sigh of relief when no retaliation is suggested against Ryan's division, slightly surprised even by the seemingly complacent tone of his demeanor.

"Yes, my Lord." The young Doctor is speaking again. "If I may, I think the direction we should take in regards to- "

" **But** I did not call you here for that today, Doctor." He interrupts the beginning of the Doctor's ramble, immediately making him go silent.

"Pardon me, Boss?"

"I will be going away on a brief business trip." He announces with an air of finality, and then without missing a beat he turns his gaze toward you.

"Assistant, you'll be delighted to know you have a new wardrobe coming in today, so be thankful you little ingrate."

'Little ingrate' was the new, scathing pet name adopted for you as of late, you supposed it was well deserved but that didn't keep it from hurting every time he used it nonetheless. Now, however, you were feeling more of a whiplash with his seemingly sudden, random and unrelated announcement.

"N-new wardrobe, Sir?" You ask now curious and hesitant.

"You'll be coming with me, you fool! I can't have you looking like that outside the Manor."

You blink several times in confusion.

What? To where? When? Why? Oh Boy...Do you really look that bad? "I-um..."

"Boss, may I ask why you’ve decided to take her?! I don't think she'll be of much help outside the Lab or the Manor for that matter. I, on the other hand, can provide much better assistance." Gee, thanks, Doctor -but no! Wait, this time you have to agree with him.

"Sir, I don't mean to contradict your decision, but Dr. Flug is right, I-I don't-"

" **Or** I could leave you here, take Flug with me, and have Demencia do as she pleases with the Manor with you inside. I don't have a problem with that since you'll be the one to clean it up. That is, if you manage to survive her ruthless whims. So I'd much rather deal with you than come home to a battleground and your mangled body, but you are welcome to take your pick, Assistant."

"When do we leave, Sir?"

A neon, wolfish grin greets you then.

"Tomorrow morning."

 

* * *

 

 

The black stagecoach's wine-red suede insulated you both from the dry wind outside.

Ashy grey skies above showed several fissures that split open its grey tones with violet rays of light. In the distance, green gas rose up from toxic puddles of filth from the ground up toward the wounded heavens above. Lifeless soil of cinder-like earth covered the land as far the eye could see with the exception of the cobbled path paving your way. Skeletal, black-charred trees with bony branches twisted like thin broken fingers in every which way, looking more and more like dried up corpses as the carriage advanced in the woods. And yet, life still remained as you caught glimpses of dark silhouettes of animals crawling about in the shrubbery, their iridescent eyes reflecting the light given off by the carriage's meagre lantern lights. Everything in the landscape remarkably unnatural and foreign to you, despite the weeks spent in your Master's bleak Manor.

And still you did not look away from the sight, fidgeting with the hard edges of the silver portfolio that was entrusted in your care by Mr. Black Hat himself. It is sleek and modern looking, if a bit hefty and a clashing contrast with the archaic style of everything else you were surrounded by, the very clothes you wear included.

Just the evening before, you expected to receive a few garments of clothing here and there. Instead though, racks upon racks of clothes from past eras, some looking like they belonged inside a museum rather than in your room with how expensive and intricately made they were stood before you. Running your bare hands over the fabrics, you found them to be fine textiles of weighty volume and soft threads. Dark fabrics and lace mirroring your Boss' color palette and taste for the bleak, much in the same way your uniform did, according to the Doctor. And though you were thankful for the clothes, you could not help but wonder why Dr, Flug was allowed his brightly colored t-shirts, jeans, and white lab-coat while you were constricted to only wearing these dark hues.

Still, you counted your blessings, and chose your garments for the trip; a pair of knee-high, button-up boots, their chunky heel providing for comfortable support since you did not know how long you'd be on your feet. And an ensemble of black, tight-fitting trousers and a fitted blouse with a low, square neck-line with button details at its front, the long sleeves provided more warmth under the thick Moire cape of embroidered silk and lace accented edges, held together by a wide ribbon, which covered your neck. Your white pillbox hat was exchanged at 5.0.5's suggestion for a darker one with a veil, you guessed he picked that for you only because it had flowers on it, and even if the flowers were of a sickly black -you didn't have the heart to deny his input. Mr. Black Hat made no comment of your getup when he saw you coming down the stairs and you took that as an approval of your wardrobe choice.

As for the mode of transportation, you expected...well, you didn't even know what you expected to be quite honest, but it sure as hell wasn't an old time-y, horse-drawn stagecoach -a very elegant and ornate stagecoach at that- but a stagecoach nonetheless, and that goes without mentioning the horse skeletons at the front. Snowy, white bones jut out in every direction, emphasizing their possible grand stature in life, if ever they lived. In hindsight, it shouldn't have surprised you then to learn the path you would take would not be through paved roads or even on a plane for that matter, but rather through the opening of a portal; with the sheer gash of your Boss' claw, a tear leading to another realm made everything click into place. That little display made you feel uneasy already, but by then you were already inside the carriage with the silver portfolio in your lap.

Now you sit across from each other in silence the first half of the way into this realm. And unlike with Dr. Flug, you never quite adjusted to Mr. Black Hat's presence when left alone. However, the landscape outside provided the perfect distraction and a topic for conversation, so you mustered enough courage to ask him about this strange land only to find him...Napping? You did not know he was capable of that, you thought observing him as he leaned his chin over folded fingers, elbow resting over the carriage's soft armrest. His eye is closed and the forever present frown of his brow softened somewhat, breathing shallow and soft. He looked...well, he looked calm. Almost serene.

You beheld the baffling sight as he continued to snooze and cursed at yourself for not bringing your phone along.

Feeling at ease when he did not stir after a few moments, you took the rare opportunity to observe Mr. Black Hat at your leisure. After all, you had an inkling that he did the same in the occasions when the feeling of a heavy stare came over you while working in the halls of the Mansion, turning around to catch a glimpse of his retreating form walking by.

Though now that he remained unperturbed by the light rocking of the pebbled path below, you took your time in noting that the ensemble he wears is different to the one he dons on a daily basis; the snug fitting coat is of a military cut with elegant coattails hanging at his back, golden buttons shine in the low light of your surroundings. A scarlet dressage stock is neatly folded and pinned at the collar of a white dress shirt, while meticulously polished boots tied everything together tastefully well. His slender frame and tall height poised him as an imposing and regal figure of a man, even now as he leaned back slouching in his seat. You had even stared earlier standing the top of the staircase until he barked at you to hurry up and get down there.

You gasped the moment his eye abruptly snapped open without warning, a low rumbling of his chest alerting you even more.

"Halt."

You were confused for a moment, until you felt the carriage come to a stop. The Botler assigned to your trip coming to open the coach's door, letting the cold air come in with the motion.

"Stay," was all he said before climbing out to examine the surrounding area. He swore under his breath as he looked on to the path ahead.

"Sir?" You peeked out from the carriage's door frame.

"Get out, we're continuing on horseback."

Your lips tightened at his command, but you said nothing more as you moved to obey.

By the time you got out into the chilly air of the road, the horses had already fleshed out as enormous coal-black Shire steeds of glowing red yes with smoky manes and tails. There's no way anyone could pay you enough to get on one of those animals, they look absolutely vicious -and you are about to tell Mr. Black Hat as much, but to your relief you didn't have to as he grabbed the silver case from your hands to hook it onto one of the horse's saddles before mounting the beast in one quick, fluid motion. You are relieved and happy to stay and wait inside the coach, before getting on one of those things -but alas! No such luck; he turns to you then, extending one of his gloved hands. No words needed to convey what he was asking.

"Unless you want to mount the other steed on your own." And that prompts you to take his hand.

Your heart raced a little with the proximity of your body to his as you continued to exercise your skills of focused distraction as soon as you finished adjusting to the horse, your arms circling around his back to keep yourself from falling from the animal's light trotting. If Demencia could see you now. She'd surely have your head for dinner by the end of the day.

The wide, cobble-stone road from where you came from slowly narrowed into a dirt path with the dark flora bearing down on you becoming even thicker, emphasizing how open you are to the natural elements of the region. You shiver in the chilly wind, teeth clacking a little.

"Pathetic mortals and your petty weaknesses." He comments.

"H-How much longer, S-Sir?" Because Holy Hell, is it freezing out here!

"Quite a ways, Assistant. I'm afraid the uninspired idiot ruling this particular realm really let himself go this cycle around, making this little endeavor harder than it has to be." He offers by a way of explanation, which still leaves you just as perplexed. "Remind me to charge him extra for this."

"Ye-Yes, Sir." You discreetly slide up closer to see if you can steal a little bit of his warmth and find his body holds none, so you take a stab at conversation to block out of the biting cold instead. "Mr. Bl-Black Hat-t, how long...how long have you known this...cl-client?"

"Longer than what your simple mind could process, we go a few eons back. Hard to explain in human measures."

"I see." Is all you manage to say to that, before silence settles over both of you once again.

"Sir, couldn't, couldn't we have had-d-d our parcel service d-d-do this...?"

"Some things, you'll learn, you have to do them yourself -besides, not many could survive the journey." He motions with the tilt of his chin to the surrounding foliage, "Hidden within the shadows, beasts and blood-thirsty abominations lay in wait for the perfect prey. They sense and smell those who are an easy meal and those who are so far above the food chain that it's best to keep their distance."

A shiver wracks through your spine and it suddenly has nothing to do with the cold and everything to do with the wild, neon-green and yellow eyes peeking out from the dark nooks and crannies of the dead bushes and trees lining the road. The sudden flight of a flock of birds of prey makes you flinch, before you scoot closer to him still as he chuckles -humored by your reaction.

"Not funny," You mumble in a vain attempt to get him to stop laughing, your voice comes out muffled from having your face buried in the small of his back, a stinging, sandalwood scent filling your nostrils, "...Sir."

You wonder if you could ask him something about the 'olden times' now that he seems to be more receptive to conversation (or at least this being the most you've gotten out of him after your return), since his ancient age was something that intrigued you as of late even as otherworldly features, brusque commands, and swift, startling movements instilled fear in you first rather than any sort of deference to his wise years. His sleek appearance and wiry build would have anyone fooled until he spoke, the low raspy timber of his diction dropping hints here and there with the use of outdated words carried by a mysterious accent, which you guessed to be an amalgam of languages he picked up over time forming a speech pattern uniquely his own. And then there's times he just plainly reminded you of the local old grumpy man that lived down the street in your neighborhood, the one whose house you TP'ed with your friends that one Halloween night (though you're not sure if a stern lecture would be enough to quell his anger if ever some wayward gang of misfits did the same to the Mansion). While other times, his sharp intellect and knowledge of every subject intimidated you to no end -yet he does seem to have trouble keeping up with the times, Flug confided in you one evening -and that made him kind of...endearing in an odd, dissonant kind of way, you're not gonna lie...- Wait, nope. You're not going there again, think of something else, anything, Oh look at that! What a cool-looking, scurrying..uh, cat, rat...thing?

"We're here." Your thoughts are thankfully interrupted by the Boss himself.

"U-Uhm..." Your voice shakes only a little this time around.

An enormous medieval castle of awesome size sits atop a steep hill a few meters ahead. It looked like something right out of a horror movie, with narrow pointed towers and a number of bastions at every corner, built with grey, heavy-looking slabs of rock. Impressive, tall curtain walls covered with dark green moss enclosed the property; however, your attention is drawn to the massive structure behind the castle; its shape looks like the hilt of a sword, as the blade itself pierces the ground below and a withdrawn wing of iron-like material sits at each side of its cross-guard, while a fractured violet sphere serving as the hilt's decoration seems to stand still in time, floating splinters suspended in midair surrounding it.

"This numbskull waited too long..." Mr. Black Hat sneers with a click of his tongue.

On your part, you're not sure if you prefer the uncertainty of the dark forest with its feral creatures more than the cursed looking thing ahead. But you don't get to make that choice when the gates to the fort open, and your Boss prompts the steed forward at a much faster gallop than before.

Upon arrival, there's already someone waiting at the gates of the castle, the first person you've seen during the entire trek here.

It is a girl -she cannot be more than a teen, yet already looks like a ghostly apparition with the paleness of her snowy skin and matching white hair. She waits at the entrance of the castle, small hands peeking out from her short white cape, neatly clasped together. Her hair is pulled back into a tightly braided ponytail, while other smaller braided strands wrap around the crown of her hair and are tied by a loose, satin bow. knee-high spool booties of white lace and leather tightly hug her tiny feet under a mid-length tulle dress. In other words; she looks like a porcelain doll, with striking, sapphire eyes of deep blue staring steadfastly as the both of you made your way over to the gate after dismounting.

"Lady Arabella." Your Boss bows and takes his tophat off to greet the girl, revealing a bowler hat underneath. Unlike you at the moment, the girl seems unfazed and without missing a beat returns the greeting with an elegant curtsy.

Her soft, child-like voice contrasts with the bleak landscape around you.

"My King has been waiting for you, Earl of Ruin. Please, follow me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas~!!!
> 
> I live, still.


	14. Corpse Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A failure fragrant as magic. Ascend the spirit into the design. 
> 
> My particular chiron: the record that your perfect feet ever graced
> 
> this earth. Homing signal adrift among stars, our tender impossible longing. 
> 
> What have I made of your sacrifice. This bone: it is myself." - Vanesssa Angelica Villareal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waltz of The Bone King. - Peter Gundry: https://youtu.be/9k2SzIpPOck

Columns reaching from floor to ceiling create a forest of stone, the crimson and gold carpet below are the only splash of color inside this dreary place -that and the girl. The girl with her short, fluffy cape and bouncy tulle dress, she did not even acknowledge your presence back then, but that could be because of her apparent noble upbringing so you decide not to take it to heart. Her ethereal presence seems to glow as she leads you through the long, dark corridors of the castle and through a number of grand, double-doors until you reach the one that leads you to the throne room, to Lord Black Hat's client.

"My King, the Earl has arrived." Her voice echoes in the vastness of the room, bouncing off of opaque crystals lining the walls and high ceilings before turning to your Boss. "Earl, my King will see you now."

Without a word, your Boss takes this cue to approach the throne with confident strides; you follow after him.

At the end of the long, dark hall sits the king, the closer you get, the slower your pace becomes as you struggle to take in the sight before you:

Upon the giant throne sits a skeleton, a slouching skeleton of equally awesome size. It is almost the size of a three-story building with massive, aged bones of an off-white, yellowish discoloration, a maroon hooded cape hangs over the king's shoulders, while a simple crown of bone fashioned into sharp, dagger-like peaks rests atop the maroon hood draped over his head. You make a full stop a few paces behind Mr. Black Hat taking in the astonishing sight as the king lays still on his throne, abysmal, hallowed out eyes appear to stare straight ahead into nothingness. The thought of decay comes to mind when you gaze at them.

"I did not travel through a thousand dimensions to see you snore, Your Majesty." You look at your Boss in alarm, taken aback by his nonchalant tone.

Though your gaze is drawn back to the skeletal being when a twitch of his enormous hand makes you step back. Dust falls off his jutting joints with the lethargic movement, cracking noises engulf the room with every inch he manages to lethargically move as he readjusts slightly in his seat. His slacked jaw moves, into place with a loud popping sound before a deep, throaty voice of a cavernous nature rumbles out from within the king's slow-moving mouth, as if trying to remember how to form words.

" _Earl, my friend...and...old...ally, we meet..._ " He says, attempting to make a small, sweeping gesture with his hand, " _I see...you are fairing well, though I...I cannot...say...the same...for myself...as you can...see..._ " His tone somehow manages to convey an almost fatherly, candid tone despite the gravelly, haunting notes in his words.

"I'm not surprised, what with the state of your world and everything smelling of rot. Your grasp over this land is slipping as the monk's sacred prayers are, slowly but surely, having its effects on the Gemstone. You will cease to be if the Celestial Mantra cycle is completed." Your Boss conjures up his cane to grasp with both hands as he finishes his assessment. "But I suppose that is why you called me yet again, even took your time making the summons too."

 _"...Earl...with so little to do...sometimes...centuries bleed....into...one another...without notice...Had it not...been...for my precious...Arabella, I know not...what...would have...become of me..._ " The Skeleton King meekly sinks into his chair once more as if he were a chastised child, then he calls out to the wraith still standing at the end of the hall. " _Arabella...my dear...get...the Earl's...chamber ready_..."

"No need to bother the marchioness, Your Majesty, we're strictly here today for a short business visit, not leisure." He informs the king and makes a beckoning motion with his left hand to you. "Assistant, bring forth the contract."

"Yes, Sir!" You respond, immediately walking toward Mr. Black Hat while unlocking the briefcase you've been entrusted with; presenting it open to your Boss so he can access the documents inside.

" _...Oh?...A maiden, Earl?...And...a living one at that...an utmost...becoming...surprise..._ " The King exhales, cold wind blowing your way as he curiously leans in a bit to see where you stand, and you do your best to remain in place and nod in acknowledgement.

"Your eyesight is worsening, Your Majesty, she has been present the whole of my time here." Your Boss comments as you feel him draw the sorted contents out of the embellished case.

"... _You...must pardon...me, Earl...it has been...a...while...since I...have seen...a human..._ " The ends of his fingers slowly close and open to belatedly greet you in a kindly gesture, while you nod and continue to smile. What a curious monarch this king turned out to be, so unlike the tyrant you call ‘Boss’.

You spend the next hour observing as Mr. Black Hat goes on to explain the changes in the contract and to confirm other clauses. It’s worth noting that the King tries his best to bargain with your Boss, but is no match for his quick-thinking and short temperament, especially with the monumental effort it takes the skeletal ruler to simply speak. You almost feel sorry for His Majesty. Almost, until the negotiation turns to the topic of souls, at which point you direct your gaze down and do your best to tune out the conversation...

"-and that's the extra levy for the trip Your Majesty had us undertake, my weakling Assistant here nearly fainted at the mention of your savage pets."

At this you looked up, taken by surprise at being mentioned. Also, that is a blatant lie, you just got a little shaken up, that's all.

 _"Oh...that is..very...troublesome...indeed, your...your...poor maiden...very well...then...I concede._ "

With another drawn out movement of the tip of his index, finger-bone the contract levitates up from your Boss' hands up to the King, the same bone then ignites in a fiery, violet light using the flame to sign the contract agreement. You see Mr. Black Hat’s shoulders shake, a low chuckle resonating within the hall of the throne room -keen fangs on full display.

"May our ongoing understanding last for endless eons to come, _Skeleton King of the CXVII Netherworld_."

The moment your Boss finished saying the King's name the opaque, beryl crystals in the room lit up with an intense bright fuchsia radiance and a contracting, battering sound echoes throughout the land. The ground moves from under your feet as you somehow feel the world quaking, shifting into place, making you stumble in the process. The jarring sound of unfolding metal makes you fear that the sky is falling -but just as fast it came, the turmoil ceases and everything returns to its version of normalcy. Except the high windows of the hall allows you to see that the sky has changed color now, it matches the now luminous crystals and the color of the great stone outside.

A reverberating laugh directs your attention down again, it is the Skeleton King looking amused on his throne.

 _"That little thrill...never gets old, Earl."_ His voice sounds rejuvenated compared to before.

"Anything for an old friend. For the right price, of course." Your Boss calls you closer with a crook of his finger, you approach to hold up the case for him to place the documents in. The King takes the candid comment with humor leaning back onto his enormous throne again.

" _...Maiden, young maiden...won’t you come closer?...Let me take a closer look at you...I promise you no harm._ "

You glance up at your Boss from the documents he's currently sifting through, he doesn't even look at you while he tilts his head towards the awaiting king, "Humor the decrepit, old loon," he mutters. The dismissive comment is as good as any serious order, so you've no other choice but to comply, leaving the briefcase in your Boss' hands.

You bow slightly before addressing the massive figure of the skeletal monarch above, "Yes, Your Majesty?"

" _Closer...my dear..._ " You hesitantly obey, walking up the stairs and onto the throne's dais, a searching hand going up to the collar of your neck.

_"...What a lovely veil, my dear...but I would very much like to see your face..."_

You see no harm in that so you oblige his request, lifting up the hat's veil revealing your face for the ancient king to see.

" _Ahh...there you are...A pretty bird with such bright young eyes..._ " He drawls out and you quietly thank him for the compliment before he continues, " _Tell me, how does the Earl treat you...?_ "

Now that is an unexpected question, you steal a glance back at the man standing behind you. He tilts an eyebrow at you, as if to say ‘ _Well?’_ which prompts you to answer. "He-His Lordship treats me well enough, Your Majesty."

" _I see, that is good to hear...Tell me, bird, how old might you be?_ " You tell him your age, before he slaps his knee with one of his massive, skeletal hands. " _My, you are but a babe, my dear!"_ His hallowed out gaze briefly glances over to your Boss, _"Earl, you must forgive me again for imposing...such a trying trip on you and this child..._ " He then turns back to you. "... _Tell me child, how could I ever compensate you?_ "

"Th-there's no need, Your Majesty! Seeing my Lord's business endeavours prosper is payment enough." You smile nervously, putting up the palms of your hands as if to deter him from further inquiries.

" _But you must have want for something...perhaps you yearn for someone long gone...tell me, are all your loved ones still among the living?_ " That question instills an ill feeling in you as he draws up a sceptre you hadn't even noticed he had leaning at the side of his throne. " _...I can make it so that you may speak to the dearly departed... Now tell me, child.._."

You take a step back, now truly frightened when the flash of a lively boy with jet-black hair slicked back flashes in your mind. His sceptre glows when he brings it forward, peering at you with the abysmal, empty space where his eyes would be. And your heart skips a beat.

" _Oh...I see, his name is-_ "

"Your most Gracious Majesty, I really do not desire any compensation! This is only what is expected of me as the Earl's attendant. Though I do thank your kind generosity!"

He stops in mid-movement, and then laughs at your thinly-veiled plea with low, rumbling heaves of his rib cage. " _...But of course, of course!...How inconsiderate of me to ask you of such matters when your Master watches on.._." You blink a few times at the implication of those words, but decide it is best to not disagree with the ruler, allowing him a soft, nervous smile instead.

He leans back against his throne, and the tension in your shoulders eases somewhat. " _...Though now you must allow me to show you hospitality in some other manner, my liege of subjects will rise soon...and they do tend to be a rambunctious bunch after centuries of slumber...I'd rather you spend the night in my humble château..._ "

“There's no fighting it, Assistant, His Majesty is as stubborn as unchecked mold." Your Boss says from behind you, "We'll stay." Is his answer.

" _Oh! What joy_..."

"Indeed." You say with all dishonesty.

 

* * *

 

 

You are taken to adjacent chambers by the marchioness and are informed that dinner will be served in one hour.

"Please be ready, I will come to fetch you." Then turns to you for the first time since you arrived. "My King has presented you with a gift, we hope that you find it to your liking. Please wear it for dinner."

"Thank you, erhm-...Lady Arabella?" You say unsure of how to address her, but ashy, white eyelashes flutter for a moment before she nods and takes her leave with another brief curtsy.

"That old buffoon always had a weak spot for young females of your kind." Mr. Black Hat comments standing in front of his door. "Nearly forfeited his realm for one a long time ago too. I had to come and talk some sense into his thick, empty skull."

"Ah." You acknowledge and then pause, starting to see his line of reasoning. "Is that why you brought me, Sir?"

"I wonder..." Is his sly reply as he enters his chamber.

Dinner is mercifully...uneventful, since the King has retired early as you were informed while you were being seated. The dining hall is large and dark with only a large, rusty chandelier illuminating the table. You inspect the soup in your plate with caution, gingerly stirring it in your plate with a golden spoon so as not to seem rude. It seems to be safe to eat, still, you hesitate and glance over to Mr. Black Hat who sitting across from you at the long table. You almost wish the table wasn't so long so that you could discreetly ask for his guidance, he seems to sense this after tasting the soup himself.

"What's wrong, Assistant, afraid of a little asparagus soup now?" He chuckles from his side of the table and you feel your face warm up, so you begin to eat quietly and are careful not to soil the wide, bishop sleeves of your gifted solid-white dress with the food courses that are steadily brought out.

The endless petticoat layers of the puffy, princess silhouette you felt obliged to wear provide excellent insulation from the damp cold of the castle, nearly touching the floor while a snug, high satin collar embraces your neck and a tight bodice improved your posture. It truly appears that the king earnestly wanted you to indulge him as much as possible. You preferred to let your hair down, hoping to retreat to bed as soon as dinner was over, which continued to carry on in silence until the last course when the marchioness materialized seemingly out of nowhere making you almost spill the water from the glass cup in your hand.

"Would the earl's warmly regarded Assistant care to accompany me for walk around the castle? Lest you need to tend to your Master." Comes the light, chilly voice from the girl.

"Uhrm! Thank you, but I-uh..." You glance over at your Boss to see him already getting up from the table.

"You may go, I have no need for you at the moment." You bite your lips into a tight line, but say nothing as you watch him retreat. "Just make sure to return her in one piece, Marchioness."

You turn back to girl standing next to you and smile.

The rosy colors of the sky gradually turn darker, the sky now clear from the stormy, grey clouds from before. A star and two moons, one larger than the other one, become visible as you walk past the open, arching windows of the castle's open halls. The sight is so alien to you, ripped right out of a fantasy book. There's a million questions you want to ask about this place and of the strange king's gentle, almost meek nature. But you settle for the one thing that has been bothering you since you arrived at the castle.

"Arabel-er, Lady Arabella, are you the only one serving the King?"

"No, there are more, but they've yet to rise. Though I am the closest member of the court to His Majesty." She says staring straight ahead. "As you may have guessed, we haven't received a lot of visitors recently, so it can get quite lonesome."

Oh. "I see..." So she wanted company. "Well, it's good then that you'll have more people around soon!" You try to sound cheerful, but she stops and looks up at you for a moment, her face devoid of expression.

"What a curious creature you are, the beginning of your servitude to the earl must be recent as not many would call it 'good' to see my kind roam the lands again..." You've no immediate reply to the surprisingly cheeky comment.

"You would be right in that, Lady Arabella." You concede as she blinks at you before she continues to walk down a brick-stairwell corridor. "But I do appreciate the sentiment since this is the first time the earl has decided to bring someone."

Really? "I'm sorry, Lady Arabella. but that's hard to believe, I'm sure he has gotten one of the other two back home to accompany him before." You lean onto the wall as you walk in the darkness of the stairs following after her.

"One of the other two...? No, as far as I can recall, the Earl has always come alone... And here we are."

"Oh..."

You come out to a beautiful garden of vibrant, white flower-beds surrounding a clear water fountain. Pale, white light emanates from within the flowers themselves, a bright glow reflecting from the overflowing water of the fountain where a beautiful statue of an angelic woman sitting upon a throne of sculpted flowers rests. She looks as if she is merely dozing. The lifelike folds of her robes and the details of her hair and skin make it impossible to think of her as a statue.

"What a beautiful sculpture, it seems as if she will open her eyes any moment now." You walk up to the fountain, to take a better look at her chiselled form.

"I'm afraid that will never happen for His Majesty's Madonna, for this is the only corpse he cannot bring back into being again."

You’re not quite sure you heard that correctly. "I'm sorry, you mean to say this is..."

"Her remains, yes." You feel her cool presence come closer, while you continue to stare at the woman in her eternal slumber. "Ever since she ceased to live, His Majesty has not been the same. Yet, had he not done so, my kind would have perished long ago."

You are a bit stunned by the gravity of this new piece of information and are unsure of how to react.

"My King also desired for you to keep a blossom of his garden." Unfazed by your silence, the girl leans down to browse the flower bed. "His Majesty doubts he'll see a human girl for centuries to come." You tear your gaze away from the fountain, still perturbed by the revelation and opt to help her so that you may return to your room as soon as possible. Sitting on your haunches the wide skirt of the dress puffs around you as you join the girl on her search.

"I hope your Master doesn't mind my King's kindly gesture.” She comments, caressing the petal of flower nearby.

"Of course not, why would he?" Her thin, snowy eyebrows rise, and her big, blue eyes widen in mild surprise. This is the first reaction you've seen from her...

"Pardon me, Assistant, I assumed you were his..." It's her turn to look out of sorts now as she redirects her gaze to the flowerbed, "...uhm, favored Retainer."

 _Favored Retainer_ , wow...What? And there it is again.

You don't quite agree with the connotation those words imply and are mortified at the thought of Mr. Black Hat even getting wind of this assumption.

"Oh-no no, no, _no_ ! I-I think you’ve got it all wrong here, homegirl-I mean, Lady Arabella! You see, I'm just his employee and in my world that's the equivalent of um...ah, a hired hand? Yes! Hired labor! Um, except an employee is treated better where I'm from, I mean-that’s not to say people here aren't treated well either, but that they're supposed to be treated _okay_ at the very least -but y'know, Mr. Bla- my Lord is a little different, but that's beside the point! Err...do you understand what I'm saying?" Your face is hot by the time you finish babbling and she looks even more confused than before.

"...Then, why does he allow you to ride his steed with him," then she points to your feet, "and why does he have you wear boots with pearls as embellishments. And why does he allow you to eat at the same table as him and speak to you with such familiarity? One does not do such things with a hired hand. Also what does 'homegirl' mean."

"P-pearls? What? And that is beca-you know what. No, _nonono_ !" You insist, bringing the tip of yours fingers to your temples, because seriously? "I'm an _emmmployyeeee_! Not his-whatever you said."

"Retainer."

And you sigh, "I signed a contract!" You croak.

"Perhaps you are right then, one only signs arrangements for a very specific trade, like my King with your Earl. Though I am still unsure of what your duties consist of as your realm sounds like such a strange, unfathomable place..." She says without batting an eye.

"To be quite honest, I don't either and I kind of lost the chance to read over that contract..." Now that you speak of it, you never quite got around to procuring a copy for yourself either.

"And that does not concern you?" She asks, finally settling for a large blossom off to her right.

"Sometimes," you admit.

"What if you signed your life away and don't even know it." She gets up, using her small, delicate hands to dust off the moist earth from the flower's leaves.

"I suppose fear got the best of me, and I did what I had to, to survive."

She hands you the blooming, white flower, and you gingerly receive it with both hands.

"My wise King says that sometimes, it is simply in one's nature to embrace darkness in order to survive..." The ghostly girls gazes back at the fountain and adds, "And still there are those who try to break free, sometimes they succeed. Except, when they don't."

 

 

* * *

 

 

The desire to sleep escaped you after the stroll with the marchioness in the garden.

The flower rests on the wide bed as you pace back and forth in your chamber, trying to get the image of the statue out of your head. The random flash of lightning does not help either when it illuminates silhouettes of white figures in the distance and every small sound emitted by the castle's walls makes you testy. How long do nights last here? Your chest tightens at the thought of the long hours before dawn arrives and you can return back to the mansion, to the place you've come to terms with as your new home. Then you remember seeing a small, kindling light seep though the cracks of your Boss' room as you were escorted to your own. What if you...No, that's probably going get you yelled at. You sit on the bed, your dress shifting and rustling underneath you and begin to consider sleep -that is until you hear a series of ghastly wails coming from outside your window and then you waste no time in running out of your room to go knock on Mr. Black Hat's door.

What could be worse than getting a scolding from his eldritch form and knowing it's him than to lay in bed listening to whatever unknown thing was wailing outside. So you make your gamble and knock at his ornate wooden door.

A few seconds later; "What."

"Sir, I-I uhm, was wondering if I could be of any assistance since I noticed you were still up when I came back... err, and I thought perhaps you needed help with documents and such." You offer a composed smile, waiting for his reply.

He merely raises an eyebrow at you before a mocking grin crosses his face. "Let me guess, the phantoms outside spooked you."

Shit, now he's really not going let you in. "What phantoms? I heard nothing!" You lie as another ear splitting wail comes down the hallway, you bite your lip and plead with your eyes that he let you in.

"You will be up all night with me, _working_." Is his only reply as he walks back to a table set up by window.

"Oh thank God! Thank you, thank you!" You rush in, quickly closing the door behind you.

"How was your little stroll with the Marchioness?" He asks, sinking back into an upholstered sofa by the table.

"It was...interesting, Sir. I've never been in a place like this after all." You answer truthfully, going over to the table to see what you could help him with.

"Yes, well get used to it because you'll be taking Flug's place whenever it's most convenient for business." He comments, signing a form and setting it aside.

"Sir, wouldn't Flug be the best person to bring along? I only know so much after all..." You try to argue again a second time.

"That depends on the client's needs, you little fool, now that I have you working for me-I have some flexibility in how the services and products are marketed and sold." So, there's no escaping this. "Besides, don't you want to spend more quality time with the highly revered Earl of Ruin?"

Instinctively you withdraw your shoulders into yourself and do your best to pretend to concentrate heavily on what you're reading before even daring to look up. He has a sheet of paper covering the lower part of his face as well, his sharp eye still peering at you waiting for a reaction. Is he trying to play a mind game with you now?

"I didn't know you were an earl, Sir." Is all you can think to say.

"There are many things you have no knowledge of, Assistant, perhaps one day I'll grant you access." His voice drips with an alluring malice, it's the same voice you've heard him use on his clients when he's about to close a deal over the phone.

"Sir, I think it's enough that I only know the essential information to do my job well." You've seen enough things already as it is, you think.

"My, how humble of you." He mutters, straightening up again in his chair, with an air of mild annoyance, though you don't understand why.

The next couple of hours are spent taking dictation for several letters that will need to be redacted when you get back to the Manor. And you are once again amazed at how much information his mind can retain. After that he instructs you to draft a list of possible ideas and projects for the Organization. Next, you take your time to re-organize the documents in the silver portfolio even kneeling on the floor when needing a wider surface to work on, and you end up needing quite a lot-no wonder the darn thing weighs so much! You start feeling a little tired by then, but you’re determined not to return to your room, so you begin conversation.

"Sir?" You can see from your place on the floor that his eyes are closed, resting his hands over this lap on the sofa. He hums in acknowledgement when you call out to him. "Have you ever thought about retiring?"

"This **_is_ ** my retirement, you dolt." He replies and you pause, mildly confused.

"Oh...My apologies, Sir." Fail. "I really wouldn't have thought that-"

"You thought I’d be rotting away inside my Manor like the giant heap of bones we left down in the throne room." He drones on, still motionless in his chair. Although those were not your thoughts exactly, you can still feel your shoulders shrinking, your brow drawing into a guilty visage.

"I'll tell you what, Assistant, any idiot who has the brains and the malice in him can become a great villain, it's only a matter of ambition." He clenches one of his large, resting hands into a fist. "But you must keep busy, striving to stay relevant and engaging even in retirement. Otherwise you might end up like His Majesty here; depressingly obsolete and indolent inside a husk of past glories in a long forgotten realm. Grace and dignity 'til the end, Assistant."

You listen attentively to every word, sort of amazed to hear him speak so candidly about a subject pertaining to his person. You get the feeling not many have gotten the opportunity to hear him speak like this, not for free at least. "Of course, Sir..."

"Now quit making a fool of yourself and come over here, I require payment for the knowledge I've just imparted on you."

And there it is.

You feel your shoulders already tensing up as you carefully get up from the floor, dusting off the dress' long skirt and taking your time in straightening up. You should've changed before coming in here, you think to yourself.

Walking up to him, you clasp your already clammy hands together, breathing evenly measured. "Yes, Sir?"

"Come and massage my shoulders, this place makes my skin crawl and my shoulders stiff." He lazily drawls, already closing his one ivory eye, your own shoulders relax upon hearing this.

Wordlessly you walk around the plush, wing chair to have better access, your fingertips trembling only a little when you touch the smooth fabric of his coat as the image of an open bear trap comes to mind. After a few moments though, your touch becomes less hesitant when he does not complain-and honestly, silence is the best feedback you can ask for when it comes to Mr. Black Hat. From this angle, his firm build feels and looks like that of any other man, but his shoulders are indeed rigid with tension so you use the pads of your thumbs to press and rub small circles at the base of his neck, slowly coming down to the tense juncture of his shoulders remembering how you used to do the same for your father after one of his many long shifts. The coat makes it a bit difficult, but you manage.

"What was his name."

You freeze. "...Sir?"

"His name."

You can feel his patience thinning, you've already made him repeat himself twice. Your hands begin to sweat again; you know whom he was asking about...

"Jerry." You clear your throat, "His name was Jerry, Sir." He passed in a motorcycle accident a couple of years back and you had already broken up by then but still...You don't think either of you ever really quite got over each other, which made everything that much worse back then, but he didn't need to know all that so you say no more.

"Hmm," he responds in a neutral hum. "What's wrong, Assistant? I thought you enjoyed idle talk." And that's the one thing he decides to bring up.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Black Hat, it's just that you-...unnerve me and that's when I tend to talk a lot." You confess, your fingers returning to massage to the centre of his upper back.

"I unnerve you...as I should, Assistant. Serves to keep you lot in line." Of course. You sometimes envied Demencia for being able to address him so boldly, despite the repercussions. "What other gift did the King give you, I know that old fool has a penchant for harassing young maidens."

You actually chuckle at this, kinda grateful he decided to change the subject. "Just a flower from his garden, Sir, that is all."

"Show me in the morning." You blink at his request, finding it odd he would even want to see it.

"Yes, Sir."

He says no more afterward, and you continue to rub away the stress in his shoulders, until they go slack and his head leans forward, you continue until you get the feeling he's fallen asleep. Incredulous, you lean around the chair to confirm this and see that the darker skin of his eyelid is drawn shut and the mild wrinkle under his eye is slightly relaxed, mouth still in a perpetual, mild scowl though you can hear faint snoring rumble up his chest. Gingerly you withdraw your hands from his shoulders, before going to sit at the window-sill's seat to look outside, careful not to make any noise so as to not disturb him.

There's more white figures roaming the field than before, their fluid movements should disturb you, but they instead lull you to sleep, finally feeling safe in your Boss' familiar presence.

 

 

* * *

 

 

You are standing outside the next morning, still in your thick, white dress but wearing the black Moire cape over it as you never got an opportunity to change back earlier as a knock at your door revealed Lady Arabella giving you a sardonic look first, before letting you know the Earl expected you to already be waiting outside after he bid the King farewell.

The steed which brought you here was already saddled and ready when you came out, moments later Mr. Black Hat emerged relaying instructions of some kind to Arabella, who was this time quietly accompanied by another being similar to her but wearing less intricately made clothes and a gaze that never left the ground, a servant, you guessed. Your thoughts are disrupted, nearly yelping when a dark, sinewy shadow emerges abruptly from the ground, wrapping around your torso before promptly plopping you on the steed, and then retreated back into your Boss' form. Oh.

"Well then, Marchioness, I thank you for your kind hospitality and bid you stay well." He takes off his tophat and bows slightly forward, you begin to wish you were allowed to say your goodbye as well but then-

"Please, Earl, you may call me homegirl. Per your assistant's kind explanation of her world's customs, I believe our familiarity is close enough."

Suddenly the dead, black trees over the horizon capture your interest; do they grow like that? Or was there a time when they green? You contemplate as you turn away from the daggers you _know_ your Boss is glaring your way from where he stands.

"Nonsense, I hold you in far too much regard, Marchioness, to do that." He says through gritted teeth, "Farewell."

He bows one last time before mounting with ease, taking the reigns of the hell-beast that will take you through the path from where you came from. Bringing your hands around his torso when the beast begins to turn, you catch the Marchioness pursing her lips at you in a thoughtful expression while resting an elbow over the palm of her hand and index finger lightly tapping her small, doll chin. Her aid giggles at her side, whispering something in her ear as they too watch your departure.

You only manage shake your head from side to side as a response.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Well then, at least you were not an embarrassment in front of the King."

You whip your head back to your Boss from the threatening, black overgrowth at the road's edge. "Thank you, Sir."

"Flug asked me the other day to allow you out to procure food for the Manor...I'm sure that little request did not come from him alone, Assistant."

"No, Sir, it did not." You begin to bite the bottom of your lip.

"And tell me, Assistant, why should I allow you to go out again into the world after the little stunt you pulled?" His tone is morose in spite of the touchy subject.

"Because," you wet your bottom lip, "...I've learned my lesson, my lord."

"Have you now?!" He guffaws, making you flinch with the sudden movement. And you regret ever asking Dr. Flug for this silly favor. "Very well then, I grant it to you."

Your mouth opens a little in surprise, "Sir, really?"

" **BUT** **_-_ ** if you pull something unnecessarily _stupid_ like that again then I will make sure that it is your last. Got it?!"

"Sir! Yessir! Thank you!" You smile.

"Stop that, it's disgusting." He warns as you approach the stagecoach waiting in the distance.

"Yes, Sir." You agree, now biting your lips to keep yourself from smiling -you cannot wait until you get back and tell Dr. Flug of this- he owes you a hundred bucks now. Then you remember the gift the Skeleton King gave you and your Boss' request to see it. So you fish it out from within your cape's pocket.

"Sir, this is the flower." You bring it around for him to see.

"Hm. Just as I thought." A dark chuckle rumbles up his chest. "A flower from the Atrium Garden..."

The horse comes to a stop then, the Hatbotler is already adjusting the first horse back in. Mr. Black Hat gets off first and then helps you dismount, holding your gaze when you land onto the cobbled path below.

"I provided him with that particular solution to end the troubles of his kingdom."

A sinister grin crosses the ashy skin of his face.

"At least he gets to keep her remains."

The flower then slips from your hands.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A thin cloud of dust rises from the bookshelf in the Music Room when you move a small, statuette figure to clean it. 5.0.5. is to return soon with more supplies to clean the rest of the house, or at least that was the plan but he's been gone now for almost twenty minutes and you begin to wonder what's taking him so long. You set down the statue to go see what's going on and begin walking back towards the wide hallway leading out. But when you are almost past the double-doors, a light creaking sound comes from somewhere above in the back of the room making you stop dead in your tracks. Settling sounds emitted from such an old structure was a normal occurrence to you but something in that sound made you whip around in time to catch the sight of a small white colored object fall onto the carpeted floor below with a soft thump. You squeaked and jumped back startled, hitting the shelf behind you. However, no other movement came from the thing and now weary you leaned over the seat then to see what the white object is, ready to make a run for it if need be.

Your apprehension turned into confusion when you saw that the white thing on the floor was actually a...shoe? But not any shoe -it was the flat you lost when you got back, that time Mr. Black Hat-

A flash of black and blue drops from the tall ceiling above and you actually scream this time, bolting towards the door. But then a solid grasp to your arm pulls you back, making you stumble backwards and onto a set of arms and a chest. A woman's voice urges you to stay quiet as you bat at the person holding you in place,

"No! Please don't, love! That's gonna bring me a world of problems if you tattle on me! Ow-! Hey, hey-listen, I'm not gonna hurt you, love!!!"

That makes you stop and open your eyes, not realizing you shut them in the struggle, and see a tall, young woman about your age grasping at your wrists. Her auburn bob-cut tousled from your struggle to get free. Dark eyes stared at you with determination and underlying layer of patience, while a black and navy blue fitted overall suit accentuated her fit build. A dog tag hanging over the small swell of her chest and a harness of military equipment gives her away as an infiltration agent of some kind.

"Who are you? And what are you doing in Lord Black Hat's Manor?!" But still, this could be anyone; a competitor here to steal trade secrets, a crime family looking to steal products from the Organization. Or someone...far, far worse than that.

"Don't you remember, love? It's me! Your angel!!" And she has the audacity to smile, "the one that got you that pick me up juice back then in the bird cage!"

Those words jolt your memory as you hazily recall that vision from before, bur that-you were just hallucinating, right? And even if that was indeed the case, then who is this person and how did they even manage to get in...? You bite your lips, please let this person be a villainous spy, otherwise you really wouldn't know what to do if, if...The conflict in your face must be evident, because then the next thing the young woman is pulling out in a badge holder with one hand, while the other holds you in place and...

Oh boy, you think you're going to be sick.

"Agent Waldeburg from Department of Defense, here in a recon mission." A League agent...

Then you are really pulling away from her grasp now.

" _ARE YOU NUTS?!_ Let-let me GO!!!" You glance towards the door to see if someone has heard you, your heart is about to jump out of your chest. "My Boss will kill you! Will kill us both if you don't let go!!"

"Not if you don’t blow my cover-which I _know_ you won't, because you're no criminal."

That makes you stop again, turning around you see the intense conviction of her big, dark eyes and you know she's right. You could not bring yourself to throw her under the bus, even as much as that could save you from a world of pain, but now having seen her face and knowing it was her who descended on you to help and not some delirious vision wishing for a kinder touch, for kinder words. You close your eyes and fall defeated to the floor as she finally lets go, she follows you to the ground as well.

"I'm sorry for startling you there." She speaks in a conciliatory tone.

"Oh, shut up. I don't want to hear it." She laughs as you begin pulling your hair in frustration, dislodging the ears and hat from your head, "How long have you been here?!"

"Quite a few weeks now actually..." She picks up your accessories to examine them, "had been only a couple days when I saw you fight the lizard chick in the hallway with the hot-sauce bottle."

"Noooo...You saw that?!" Your face gets warm and you flush with embarrassment, but just then 5.0.5's mild distant groan snaps your eyes open. "Shit."

"Aw fuck. Well, that's my cue to leave, but don't worry I'll look out for you, love!" Oh no, she will do no such thing; It's your turn to grab hold of her foot as she starts ascending up with the harness' cables to escape into a dislodged metal pipe, one of many lining the Manor's walls.

"I want you out of this house by the end of this week."

She winks down at you and does a little salute. "Would happily oblige, sweetheart, but I'm afraid that's turning out to be more challenging than I thought!"

You glare at her. "Storage room in the third floor, door at the end of the left hallway. Go and stay there until I look for you!"

She nods and only then do you release her foot just in time to see 5.0.5. coming in with a tray of food, apparently it's break time and the reason why it took him so long to come back in the first place.

"We're both so screwed." You murmur to yourself, doing your best to look as if nothing happened.

 

* * *

 

 

You try to carry on the best you can with the rest of your day, feeling slightly more jumpy than usual. You'll have to figure out what to do with Waldeburg, and why didn’t Dr. Flug's security system alert anyone? How much info has she already stolen from the Organization? Should you be worried about that? The doorbell’s chime interrupts your train of thought, nearly making you drop the expensive looking vase you were dusting. The doorbell chimes a second time and you set down the vase to run and see who's at the door. By the time you get there 5.0.5 is already carrying an enormous box of roses, smiling when he sees you approaching.

"Argh! Bhrhehh br~!" You sigh.

They're the Grandiose de Venus arrangement from that one place with the French name you saw online once, and they're addressed to you. You would be baffled by the random gesture coming seemingly out of nowhere, but this doesn't surprise you anymore. It was the third gift delivery that day. Those customized messages really worked their charm.

"Here, Five, let's set this one the Drawing Room, I think they’ll look nice there."

"I wish I got gifts sent to me for all my hard work too." Dr. Flug walks up to you with a steaming mug of coffee in hand.

"Well, if only you took the paper bag off, dear Doctor. Who knows? Maybe you're a stud, but who can know for sure with that thing over your head." You shoot him a light smile as he scoffs an 'as if'. "No, but seriously Doc, I feel more creeped out than flattered." You admit.

He shrugs his shoulders then. "What can you do."

"What is this."

Oh Sweet Virgin Mary!

You scramble around to find Black Hat standing at the top of the stairs, an annoyed expression over his face which immediately puts you on edge.

"Our apologies, Boss, but we keep getting delivery after delivery for Ms. Assistant, it seems the marketing material we sent out had quite the effect on our clientele." Flug steps up to explain. Mr. Black Hat remains unimpressed as he stalks down the stairs -cane in hand.

"Sir..." You begin to say, but he ignores you, heading straight to inspect the gift, sneering at it as soon as he lays eyes on it.

"Throw it away."

"Orgh rhub bherbh..." 5.0.5 groans.

"I did not ask for your opinion, _bear_." The grasp on his cane tightens, so you rush to stand between him and 5.0.5.

"Will do, Sir!"

He directs his glare at you down with gritted teeth. "And any other garbage you might have already received, if it isn’t making the Organization money-then it has no place in the Manor. I pay for your work which makes these frivolous gifts unnecessary and a distraction!" You nod to appease him. "FLUG! Make sure these things don't make it past the gates or you can kiss your opinionated bear goodbye!" He begins stalking back upstairs, before he turns around again.

"We have a last minute client coming in right now, I need you idiots to keep it together. And where is Demencia when I need her?!"

You're about to offer to fetch her from her room when the doorbell rings a fourth time and you groan in despair while Mr. Black Hat's eye turns red and begins to twitch, a set of guttural voices resonating throughout the entrance hall.

" ** _ASSSISSSSTAAAANNNT!_ ** "

You sob, asking for the sweet release of death not for the first time that day as a second chime rings. Dr. Flug quickly moves to answer it and 5.0.5 takes this opportunity to retreat, frightened by your Boss' reaction,

"Good Afternoooonghh...Go-Governor Khan! What a pleasant surprise!" From where you stand you can faintly detect the small tremble of the Doctor's hand holding the mug. It seems that your new guest has arrived. You compose your posture and quickly straighten out your attire, brushing off any dirt you may still have on you.

"Please do come in! Come in and welcome!" The young Doctor says, moving off to the side. "My Lord just informed us of your visit."

The man that comes in is of impressively muscled build, the pinstriped suit at odds with the damp, red skin of his flesh and white hair pulled back into a low ponytail. He says nothing as he comes through the door. Thick eyebrows over a wide square face and serious visage give you the impression that this man does not smile a lot. Behind him come in two much taller figures, a male and a female of equal skin tone and hair color, wearing a pair of slick narrow sunglasses with matching formal suits, they appear to be his security detail.

"And there you are, Governor. Always a pleasure." Your Boss greets and the man nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Assistant, bring up Micter's whiskey for our guest."

"Right away, Sir." You do a small bow towards the client before you go do as you're told while Dr. Flug is instructed to find Demencia.

But you are happy when nothing else is asked of you after delivering the liquor, setting the tray down while Governor Khan speaks with a thick, smooth voice and in a language you had never heard before. Your Boss nods along from time to time.

You chance a glance at him, looking to ask if he needed anything else, briefly he looks your way before waving you away.  You nod and quickly stride past the bodyguards standing behind their respective boss, you’re keenly aware of their curious stare as you exit the room.  

An hour later. Dr. Flug sends you to get a box of files from the Library, it was then that you caught sight of the client's departure. This time Demencia accompanies Mr. Black Hat as they bid the Governor goodbye, but not before the large man takes out a black envelope with a red, wax seal, handing it to your Boss; one last small shake of hands and with a bow he's gone.

"Well, what is it, dear~! Open it I want to see!" Demencia immediately crowds your Boss' space, using the envelope as en excuse to get closer.

"You wouldn't even understand the language. Now, off with you! You heard the man -he wants it done by tomorrow midnight."

"Aw, you're no fun-Hey, what are you looking at?! Can't you see we're having a moment here?!" She shoots you a glare from the end of Mr. Black Hat's cane, which he is currently using to push her away from his person.

"Oh please." Comes your Boss' own annoyed voice.

"My apologies, I can assure you that, that was not my intention," you deadpan. "But now that I'm here, is there something I can help you with before I head back towards the Lab, Mr. Black Hat?"

"Actually yes, Assistant. When you get back, let the Doctor know," he says while waving the black envelope around with a grin on his face. "that our old friend, Azizbek has warmly extended yet another invitation to his daughters' coming of age celebration. Its supposed to be crawling with big fish and their deep pockets, or so that was what Governor Khan was sent to assure me of. So have the Doctor come up for a debrief."

"Right away, Sir." You nod and begin walking back towards the Lab, excusing yourself.

 

"And come with him."

 

You pause.

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HUGE thanks to Inkberrypie for kindly taking the time to edit and for suggesting the whole marketing material idea of Ms. Assistant's smooches and the aftermath of the Boss' reaction! It was a pleasure for writing it.
> 
> This is my new back up site for now where Inky's wonderful art is posted (though I may kind of want to still continue with Tumblr lol): https://lazarel.home.blog/  
> EDIT JAN 2, 2019: i will go back to using Tumblr.com since I managed to get the shadowban revoked, so we're back. baby!: https://lazarel-3000.tumblr.com/
> 
> Anyway, sorry for the long, long wait and any typoes you may find - I pulled an all nigher (≧ω≦)ゞ. Tho i'm ngl, was kinda losing interest for a bit there bc of the lack of new material and had it not been for Inkberrypie's wonderful art and continued interest, this update might have taken longer to complete. But boy oh boy, look forward to the next part. Like- ok, i'm not gonna say anything else :)
> 
> Happy Holidays, my sweet readers and comment to your heart's content.


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